


Prince's Diaries

by Batwynn



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Jotunn | Frost Giant, Jötunheimr | Jotunheim, Jötunn Loki, M/M, Past Abuse, Physical Abuse, Rape Aftermath, prince - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-04 00:46:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 42,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1075072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batwynn/pseuds/Batwynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asgard is looking for a prince, since Thor is 'too good' to marry off to Loki, of Jotunheim. Where else could they go, but to earth? </p><p>Tony's dragged into the mess by a very diplomatic Fury, and well. He isn't a prince, but he'll have to do. </p><p>( set before avengers. AU. Loki Jotunn Prince. )</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. So We Meet

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Polski available: [Pamiętniki księcia](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5523341) by [tymianek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tymianek/pseuds/tymianek)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** Please do not share, repost, translate, or create printed copies of this fic without my express permission.

_Once upon a time, there were nine realms. In those realms lived many different species, all living together in harmony._

_Well, as harmonious as they could manage with a small war going on between Asgard and Jotunheim._

_Did I say a small war? I meant a long, tedious war that ravaged both worlds. It has gotten to the point where apparently Earth has been involved. So, that's where I come in. I'm only telling you this now because I'm pretty sure I will never see you again, Pepper. So keep reading this to the end._

_Why am I involved, you might ask. Well, I'll tell you with the least amount of cursing as I can manage. It all started when Thor came down to Earth and ordered us to hand over a prince…._

"Are you  _seriously_  telling me the god of fucking thunder just showed up in Nevada demanding a prince?"

Fury answered with a perfectly straight face, "That's exactly what happened, Stark."

"Why the fuck does an old Norwegian god need a prince?" Tony paused before adding, "Also, why Nevada?"

"You really think I know why a god is demanding anything from some southern state?" Fury snapped in reply. "All I know is, we ain't got princes in America and the British aren't giving any of their's up. This is where you come in."

_So, apparently I'm the closest thing to a prince around here. I can see you rolling your eyes while you read this. But it was Fury's call, as usual. When the god of thunder says jump, apparently Fury says 'Tony Stark.'_

_I don't know if I will ever be back, I don't even know what the fuck they need a prince for. But if I don't make it back, you will need to take care of everything. I will be taking one suit with me, because there's no fucking way I'm running around space without one. The rest, I leave in your capable hands. Wish me luck, and not dying and all that._

_Love,_

_You know who I am._

Thor had been a very agreeable god. Right up until the point where he ordered Tony to marry some giant ice pack.

"Tell me again, why  _I_  have to do this?"

Thor frowned, looking confused as to why this mortal had so much trouble understanding a simple concept.

"If you do not marry Loki Laufeyson, Asgard and Midgard both will be in mortal danger," Thor replied slowly. He smiled and added, "You are our last hope of creating a period of peace between the nine realms again."

"Kay, thanks. No pressure or anything."

Four days later, Tony was standing face to face with a Frost Giant. Taking into account the massiveness of the other giants around his fiancé, Frost Midget was more appropriate. Still, he was a giant to Tony.

"It gives me great pleasure to introduce to you, Tony Stark of Midgard," Thor said cheerfully, his arms wide in a welcoming manner. After spending time with the god, Tony was a little surprised that Odin was letting 'Tactless Thor' handle such a delicate operation. He was less diplomatic and more dopey than one would expect for the god of thunder.

The frost giants looked as unimpressed as Tony felt. They really weren't hiding it as well.

"A pleasure," the smallest one said coldly. It was very clear that it was anything but pleasurable to meet Tony.

"Nice to meet you too, future hubby."

It was worth the alarmed look on Thor's face. Did Thor even know what the word meant? Did he think Tony just insulted the Smurf prince?  
Good.

"We would like to be directed to our quarters," the smaller of the frost giants said, ignoring Tony thoroughly.

"I… but," Thor stumbled over his words, looking more uncomfortable by the second.

"Hey, big blue," Tony interrupted, "aren't you supposed to introduce yourself?"

The prince's eyes could have peeled the paint off his suit.

"I am son of king Laufey," he drawled, clearly in better control of his anger than the others, " You may call me Prince Loki."

Tony raised an eyebrow, eyeing the prince's entourage thoughtfully. "Would it be weird or disrespectful to ask to talk to you in private?"

He added hastily, "I mean before you go rest or whatever. It will only take a minute."

If Thor knew more about baseball, he would know better hand gestures to use to imply, 'Don't do it you stupid fuck.'  
But, Tony took his twitching as a sign to ignore him and smiled sweetly at his soon to be husband.

Loki met his smile without an ounce of humor in those red eyes. "But of course. I understand you were thrust into this, quite against your will as well."

"'Thrust' is really the accurate term for it," Tony commented with a hint of distaste. He still felt nauseous after being thrown from one planet to another. The Bifrost was all good and lovely. Until you ride it and it turns you inside out.

Loki's lips twitched with amusement.

There we go. I thought I was going to be stuck with a cold fish for the rest of my life.

"Shall we?" Tony asked, offering an arm out to him.

Loki looked at the arm with barely masked confusion before striding off in front of him. Tony glanced at Thor who was, again, making twitching gestures with his hands. Tony grinned and gave the god a thumbs up before following Loki.

"What is it you wish to speak to me about?" Loki asked as they reached a comfortable distance from the group.

Tony sighed, finally letting himself express some of the stress that had been building up. He had a feeling Loki would appreciate the honesty more than an act.

"Look, this is a bucket of shit that neither of us wanted," Tony said, running a hand down his face. "I wasn't planning on getting married to  _anyone_  any time soon, much less uh… a blue, prince, god thing."

Loki's eyes narrowed into slits.  
Okay, so maybe 'thing' was the wrong word.

"What I mean is, I feel bad," he amended. "I didn't know about this until I got here, and by the looks of it, neither did you."

Loki relaxed very little. "I was unaware until recently, yes."

Tony resisted the urge to sigh again. He didn't want the prince to think he was irritated with him. Lest he decide to smite Tony where he stood. "What I'm getting at, in a sloppy, half-assed way, is that we should try to get along."

"Why bother?" Loki snapped, some of his pent up anger showing at last. "I see no point in becoming friendly. Many marriages are under diplomatic terms with no further affections needed."

Tony looked seriously into the red eyes in front of him. "Because we're both a lot smarter than any of that group over there. I'd also say we have a similar sense of humor too," he paused and shared a real smile. "I think I'm probably going to be the only decent company around for miles."

Loki finally smiled something wider than a twitch. Even if it was a smirk, it still counted.

"I see," he said slowly. "Then I agree to your terms. I do grow tired of conversation that lacks a challenge."

"Glad to be doing business with you."

Tony offered a hand out to shake. Loki looked at it with a small frown. It was almost cute to see him look so honestly confused. Tony wondered, vaguely, if all It took to tear down that emotionless mask was a few strange mortal antics.

"Are you offering me something?" The prince asked.

"A hand shake. You reach out and grab my hand to shake it. It's how we come to an accord, as you would call it. Probably."

Loki's brow furrowed more. "We generally clasp the arms in an agreement." He paused, looking down at his own hand. "I fear I may hurt you if I touch you."

"Hey, I'm not that weak. I almost took Thor in an arm wrestle the other day."

By almost, he meant he managed to avoid having his arm torn off.

"That is not what I m—"

Tony grabbed his arm and give it a good, firm shake. He nearly jumped at the feeling of frozen skin against his. Oh yeah, Frost Giant.

"There," he said cheerfully, " that wasn't so bad was it?"

The look on Loki's face was pure comedy. The prince looked down at his hand in incredulous amazement.

"It did not burn you?" He asked slowly.

"Burn? Nope. I'm good. A little chilly, but I've felt worse."

Loki huffed with laugher, letting the hand fall to his side. "I see. You're blood must differ from that of the Aesir."

"These guys?" Tony asked, nodding his head towards the awkward looking Thor.

"Yes, the royalty of Asgard." He spit the last word out like it personally offended him.

Tony raised an eyebrow and decided not to press the issue. They had many years ahead of them to learn one another's likes and dislikes.

"I'm not related to gods," he replied, sounding equally disgusted at the thought.

"As godly as I may look," he added with a smirk.

Loki raised an eyebrow to match his, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

Tony ignored the small pang of disappointment at the lack of an impression he was making on the prince. Really, it's not like the guy wasn't attractive, even with the blue skin. Tony wouldn't say no to exploring those white lines with more than his eyes.

Tony blinked a few times, missing what Loki said completely.  
"What? Sorry I was distracted by… Uh. Decorations."

"I asked if we were done here," Loki repeated, the irritation returning quickly to his voice.

Tony nearly winced at how fast the prince's mood reverted back and nodded. It had been going so well, too.

"Sure, whatever. Get some beauty sleep." He shrugged and added, "not that you need it."

There was that look of disbelief and awe again. It was like the guy was never complimented, which was impossible because he was gorgeous.

Tony felt a small laugh bubble up, his stress and worry fading slightly. He reached out, chuckling softly, and brushed a few stray hairs out of Loki's face.

"See you tomorrow then, Loki."

He left the prince staring after him, looking suspiciously like he was blushing.

* * *

_Once upon a time, there lived a prince. He was known as the prince of Jotunhiem. He lived in royal splendor under a good king, and a better father._

_Did I say prince? I meant slave. A man who works for no pay, and does everything those above him ask. That is, in fact, the meaning of the word is it not?_

_Why I am asking such a thing, you must be wondering. Although you really shouldn't wonder, mother, seeing as you saw how they treated me everyday. To be treated as scum for no other reason than my size? All of this suffering and then just the other day…_

"You wish me to what?!" Loki shouted, painfully aware of how less booming his voice was than the other male Jotuns.

"You will travel to Asgard and work as our diplomat," Laufey answered smoothly. "Peace is needed between these realms, and I mean to be the instigator."

"You mean to send me into the pits of hell."

"Are you not always claiming how tiring the work here is?" Laufey asked, a sneer forming on his face.  
"You will do this, or continue to be useless here. I will not be so lenient on a prince who does not do his duties."

So, apparently, I am an incapable prince no matter what I do. Be it the physical laboring he has forced me into daily, or being a diplomat in the realm of barbarians.

I do not know if I shall ever return. I do not know if I ever wish to return, seeing how little there is I have any desire to see again. In the event of my undoubtably soon death, I leave the handling of my affairs to you. I do believe, out of everyone, you are the only one who hates me slightly less. Please keep my books for me and pass them to those eager to learn.

Yours,

The prince that never was

Being a diplomat had seemed almost agreeable. Up until the point where his entourage of guards leered at him about the wedding.

"No one said anything about marriage…" Loki said to the elder who was sending them on their way to the Bifrost site.

"King Laufey has set it up nicely. You shall be wed to either an Asgardian Aesir, or one from Midgard."

"And if I refuse?"

The elder smiled at the prince with all the affection of an ice snake. "Then you shall throw the nine realms into chaos due to your selfishness."

"I see," Loki spat at the man, biting back his nastier remarks. So the weight of the nine realms was upon his shoulders. How important of him.

One rainbow journey and a walk through the golden city, and Loki was facing two men. One was the same high as he, impressive even for a god. The other was much shorter, looking about as amused as he felt.

The blond introduced the shorter man as Tony Stark. Loki felt it odd how lackluster of a ceremony it was and how overly familiar the god was with the mortal. He had heard his soon to be husband's full name was Anthony Edward Stark. He was unsure why the oaf would find it appropriate to introduce with a pet name.

"A pleasure," he said distractedly. One of the other Jotun behind him snickered slightly. Clearly deriving a sick pleasure at Loki's situation.

Loki failed to hear whatever the mortal said. He forced himself to concentrate on the two in front of him. He politely asked to be directed to his quarters. The sooner he escaped his 'guards' the better he would feel.

The blond simply bumbled over himself, wasting Loki's precious time. He needed to get away before he broke down in front of the lot of them.

"Hey, big blue," the mortal interrupted his thoughts, "aren't you supposed to introduce yourself?"

He bit back the wave of panic and leveled his gaze on the shorter man.

"I am son of king Laufey," he replied carefully, feeling as though he were lying. " You may call me Prince Loki."

Another lie. No one called him Prince Loki. He was only called a prince in leering sarcasm.

The man in front of him seemed unfazed. Anthony cast a strange look at the men escorting him and asked if they could speak in private.

Loki tensed. So he was going to be that sort of husband. Loki was, yet again, going to be a slave to another. By the sounds of it, the lowest of them all. A bed slave.

The mortal added, "I mean before you go rest or whatever. It will only take a minute." He smiled at Loki.

Loki forced a smile on his face, doing as he had always done. Perform the part given to him.

"But of course," he said politely, ignoring the fear eating away at his stomach." I understand you were thrust into this, quite against your will, as well."

"'Thrust' is really the accurate term for it," the man said, sounding as disgusted as he felt about the entire thing.

Loki felt himself smile, just a little at the mortal's discomfort.

So I am not alone in my dislike of this wedding. Perhaps we can manage somehow.

"Shall we?" Anthony asked, jutting an elbow at him.

Loki stared at the offered limb, trying to come to some sort of conclusion as to what the gesture meant. When nothing came to mind, he simply walked on ahead.

"What is it you wish to speak to me about?" Loki asked, breaching the topic quickly. He hoped the man would be reasonable. If not, this was more than likely going to be an unpleasant show of dominance over him.

The man sighed, looking as though a sudden weight graced his shoulders. Loki felt a pang of familiarity, and a hint of surprise at the mortal's acting skills. Although, why he chose to give up the act in front of Loki was yet to be determined.

"Look," Anthony began, rubbing his face in what looked like frustration, "this is a bucket of shit that neither of us wanted. I wasn't planning on getting married to anyone any time soon, much less uh… a blue prince god thing."

Loki narrowed his eyes, biting back some comments on his lack of desire to marry a dirty midget.

"What I mean is," the man continued more carefully, "I feel bad. I didn't know about this until I got here, and by the looks of it, neither did you."

Loki was surprised, having assumed the mortal had chosen this situation for himself. Just as he had been given the option to remain useless at home. Perhaps it was prideful to think anyone wanted Loki personally, even for diplomatic reasons.

He agreed, that he was also pushed into the situation.

The man was giving him a strange look, as if weighing his options. He seemed wary of Loki, and he wondered vaguely if it was due to his small size.

"What I'm getting at, in a sloppy, half-assed way, is that we should try to get along."

Get along? Loki nearly laughed at this as his insides twisted at the notion. He truly was to be bedded, not even to be treated as a diplomat. He knew he was thrown to the beasts by his own father. This was not some form of service to his realm, it was a means to get rid of him. To finally be rid of that hideous Loki. The useless Loki.

"Why bother?" Loki finally snapped, feeling years of anger seep from his bones. "I see no point in becoming friendly. Many marriages are under diplomatic terms with no further affections needed."

"Because we're both a lot smarter than any of that group over there. I'd also say we have a similar sense of humor," the man said, looking at him seriously, but sounding slightly amused. "I think I'm probably going to be the only decent company around for miles."

He reigned back his surprise and smirked. So the mortal thought him smart. Well that was a better compliment than he had expected.

"I see," he replied slowly, shaking away the hopeful thoughts that began to form. No reason to assume the best yet.  
"Then I agree to your terms. I do grow tired of conversation that lacks a challenge."

The mortal said he was glad for something and again, thrust his arm out at Loki. This time, he had his palm up as though he were offering the air to him. Loki eyed it in confusion, noting the similarities to the poster for closing a deal.

"Are you offering me something?" He eventually asked.

"A hand shake. You reach out and grab my hand to shake it. It's how we come to an accord, as you would call it. Probably."

Loki frowned more, unsure of what to do. "We generally clasp the arms in an agreement," he said carefully before looking down at his blue hands.

He had been warned not to touch any of the Aesir, lest he wish to anger them with a burn. He assumed it was the same for those of Midgard. "I fear I may hurt you if I touch you."

"Hey, I'm not that weak. I almost took Thor in an arm wrestle the other day."

Loki was unsure what any of that meant, but of course he knew who Thor was. Who hadn't heard of his glorious battles and unmatched strength. So the mortal could hold his own with the god, impressive.  
Still…

"That is not what I m—"

Anthony grabbed his arm awkwardly, but firmly. He then proceeded to shake their arms together in a rough bastardization of the traditional clasping of arms.  
He nearly jumped at the feeling of warm flesh against his. Oh yes, a mortal.

"There," the man said cheerfully, " that wasn't so bad was it?"

Loki openly gaped at their arms.  
He had seen, once, what happened to an Aesir when one his own touched them. It was unpleasant and generally ended with screams.

"It did not burn you?" He asked, still in disbelief.

"Burn? Nope. I'm good. A little chilly, but I've felt worse."

Loki felt a laugh escape his lips.  
"I see," he said, trying to collect his thoughts. "Your blood must differ from that of the Aesir."

Loki caught the mortal's gesture to the blond god behind them.

"Yes, the royalty of Asgard," he replied, hardly bothering to hide his contempt.

The mortal looked as though he meant to comment, but seemed content on avoiding the topic. Loki was overly grateful for that.

"I'm not related to gods," Anthony said instead, sounding just as unhappy at the thought as Loki felt. "As godly as I may look."

Loki bit back a loud laugh.  
True, the man was pleasing on the eye. Far more attractive than Loki has even hoped for. But to compare himself to the massive brutes who called themselves gods was ridiculous. He was no where near their bulk, nor did he seem to share their mannerisms.

The mortal seemed slightly disappointed at Loki's failure to agree with him. He realized he must have tread poorly there, instead seeming to have insulted the man. He was about to make amends on his part, when he noticed Anthony eyeing him strangely.

His eyes had gone from slightly hurt, to almost… hungry. The old fear crawled back into Loki's stomach. Hungry like those who kept such pretty slaves, dressing them up for the parties and undressing them in the bedroom.  
He needed to escape that gaze before he showed his fear.

"Are we done here?" He asked more sharply than he intended. He flinched at his own tone, hoping the mortal took it as exhaustion.

The man shook himself from whatever thoughts were on his mind and frowned. He asked Loki to repeat himself.

"I asked if we were done here," Loki repeated, attempting to sound less irked.

"Sure, whatever. Get some beauty sleep. Not that you need it."

Loki froze, unsure of how to take those words. On one hand, it was not uncommon for those who kept bed slaves to compliment them on their features for their own sick fantasies. On the other hand, his words sounded genuinely appreciative.

The man laughed, suddenly. Loki felt his tension seep away at the sound. It wasn't a nasty, teasing laugh. It was loud and pleasant, and it infectious.

Before he could join in, Anthony reached forward and removed a hair that had fallen into his face. It was so gentle, he nearly cried at the small brush of warm skin against his cheek.

"See you tomorrow then, Loki."

Loki stared after him, feeling a strange and unfamiliar heat rise to his face. The man had said his name, and he had said it without an ounce of hatred for the word.


	2. A Man's Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asgard is boring when you're locked away in the tallest tower. Not that that lasted very long. Escape and adventures.

  
_____  
 __  
Three days have passed since I arrived in Asgard. Three days, I have spent locked away in my room and forbidden to step outside even once. My ‘companions’ have all been sent back home. Ah, not ‘home’ I suppose, but back to Jotunhiem.  
I find I much prefer the solitude to their miserable company. Even so, I crave something more than these golden walls. I grow bored, finding these quarters growing stale with each passing day.

Although, one interesting thing did happen yesterday while I was making a feeble attempt to sneak out… 

"Where do you think you’re going, Big Blue?"

Loki froze, hanging off the window sill with one hand. He followed the sound of the voice to somewhere below him. There stood Anthony Stark, looking up at him with wild amusement.

Loki blushed furiously, letting go and landing with ease directly beside the man. He dusted himself off and straightened up.   
“I have been trapped in there for days, I simply wished for a little air.”

The man threw his head back and laughed, his whole body shaking with it. Loki was sure he was going to catch the guard’s attention with all the noise.

"Silence!" He hushed Stark quickly, reaching forward and covering the man’s mouth without thinking. Stark’s eyes crinkled up, still laughing behind his hand. "I do not wish to get in trouble," Loki added desperately.

The mortal nodded and pointed to Loki’s hand expectantly. His eyes widened with the realization of what he just did.

Not only had he told the man what to do, he had touched him so easily and without asking. Loki drew back in horror, knowing full well he deserved what anger came at him next.

"My… my deepest apologies," he stammered out, attempting to remain regal and confident. If he were at home, he would have already been heavily berated for such an action. If not beaten for simply touching a pure blood.

"No problem-o, Babe," the man said calmly.

"I did not mean to speak to you as if it were a command."

"You’re a prince, doesn’t that come with the job?"

Loki tilted his head slightly, still unsure of the mood. Stark was clearly not as angry as he had expected. In fact, he seemed to be in a rather pleasant mood. He must have been forgiven. Perhaps due to the newness of their surroundings, the man would make an exception.

"It would normally, I suppose," Loki said, surprising himself. He did not mean to speak so freely of his true identity. The  _failure_. The fake prince.

"Normally?" Stark asked, stretching his arms behind his head, a curious expression beginning to grow.

Loki tensed, looking around carefully for any sign of the guards. “I am not, perhaps, the best example of a prince. I was never truly considered one in my realm.”

There was a raised eyebrow, but no further comment from the man. Loki continued, uneasily, “You must have noticed I am smaller than my fellow Frost Giants?”

"I must have."

Loki blinked, beginning to fidget with one of his long, draping sleeves. “I am not a pure blood, therefore I am not worthy of my title. Asgard has been tricked. I am no worthy husband to a prince.”

There was a lengthy pause before Stark responded. “Well,” he said, starting to grin. “Should I let you in on a little secret?”

Loki nodded, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"I’m not a prince either. Probably the farthest thing from one."

"You are… a slave then?" Loki looked at him incredulously and added, "You certainly do not  _look_ like one.”

"I’m not a slave, god dammit," the man snapped, the pleasant mood shedding away. "I’m actually a billionaire, genius, playboy… uh, scratch that last one."

Loki tried not to flinch back at the sudden flash of irritation. He drew himself up and prepared to take the blows with dignity.

The man sighed and ran a hand over his beard, looking out at the garden thoughtfully. “I guess we’re both fakes.”

Loki’s tension eased a little at the thought. Once more, he was reminded that he was not alone in this.

"Yes," he said, finding the man smiling at him already. "I suppose we are."

 __  
My freedom was short lived, seeing as the man’s laughter brought the guards to us. I could not bring myself to be annoyed with him, not for laughter. Somehow, he had given me the entertainment I had so desperately been seeking. It was worth the trouble I am sure to be in once Odin and his son hear of my escape.  
  
  


* * *

  
_  
It’s been a fucking week of this shit. They won’t let me fly in my suit, I miss pizza, and my phone battery is actually dying._

An entire fucking week wasted sitting around in some fancy ass room being waited on by servants.   
I have no problem ordering my robots around; I made them. They may have soulful eyes, but it’s all hardware.   
When a person comes in groveling and looking skinnier than a runway model, I just can’t do it. I made Thor dismiss them. He thought I was ‘displeased with the servant’s behavior ‘. I made it perfectly clear, by way of repeating myself six times, that it was me. Not them.

In other news, apparently Thor and Fury decided that I would be less likely to kill everyone if I had some sort of way to stem my boredom. So, next week I get a workshop.

A workshop.   
Supplied regularly by Fury by way of the Bifrost. It’s going to be my only sanctuary in the world of latrines and torches. Complete with my reactor core and all my own gadgets. I know Pepper had a hand in it. I could kiss her.

I really could.   
I miss …

Anyway, I’m fitting in pretty well. Even if I’m not some wild, bearded muscle man, I seem to entertain them enough to maybe count as a court jester. I had about seven of them listening to in rapt awe as I explained how my tv worked.  
Still, I’m fucking bored.

  
I guess the highlight of my week would be the time I spent with Loki. I never, in a million years, thought that I would say that.

As skittish and generally snobby as the prince is, Loki’s smart and sharp as a whip. We’ve had more riveting conversations than I can count in my life time on Earth.

Especially last time I saw him. When we both escaped (again) to run around the palace a while…

"You do not honestly expect me to believe that utter swill."

"No lie!" Tony swore, placing a hand on his chest as they both skittered behind some pillars. "On my honor, I made him say it."

"Your honor is worth about as much as mine," Loki snapped, peeking around the great red stone to see if the guards had seen them. Seemingly satisfied at their escape, the prince turned his attention once more to him.   
“Do you have any  _proof_  that you made him say it?”

"As a matter of fact," Tony replied, taking out his phone, "I do. Watch and weep, Iceberg."

Loki scowled, as usual, at the nickname. Tony felt a little bad that he kept using them, knowing full well that the god hated it. He also knew that, somehow, Loki was too afraid to say anything about it.

"Okay, aaannddd play!"

He tapped the screen and grinned as Thor came into view, looking down in confusion at the phone thrust into his face.

"What is it you wished for me to say?"

"It’s an old Midgardian ballad," Tony’s voice replied from somewhere off screen.

"I shall do my best, then, not to fail in this matter," Thor replied seriously.

Loki snickered, crouching down next to him to watch the screen with Tony. He hadn’t shown an ounce of surprise when the video had started playing. It was a surprisingly boring reaction, or lack thereof.

Thor began to sing, in his low booming voice.

"I like big butts, and I cannot lie! You other brothers cannot deny…"

"And these words mean precisely what you said they mean?"

"Basically, it’s a totally inappropriate song."

"He sang the entire thing?" Loki asked, laughing like a cat.

"He did. I taught him well." Tony paused the video and sighed contently. "Now to get him to sing it in front of Odin."

Loki was no longer listening to him, his attention finally focused on the device at last. His eyes followed around its shape as his expression darkened.

"I sense no magic from this," he spoke slowly, as if such a thing were impossible. "How does it work?"

"I never thought you’d ask." Tony held it up and grinned. "See this? It’s a screen. Like, the metal backing of a mirror. It sort of reflects the information stored inside of the phone so we can see it."

"I see," Loki said, nodding a little. "Some sort of projection, then. Only, very small."

Tony blinked. “That’s exactly it. Well, a little more complicated, but yeah. How did you know?”

Loki smiled a wicked little smile. “I know a thing or two about projections.”

"Oh?"

Loki’s humor dried up like an old well. “That is all I wish to say on the matter.”

Tony leaned back against the pillar, looking Loki up and down thoughtfully. “Why not explain it to me a little? I don’t bite.”

"I was not aware that was even in consideration."

Tony gave the god a wink. “It might be.”

That seemed to only make him tense up further, so Tony tried another track. “I just explained how this worked to you. The least you could do is return the favor.”

Loki considered this a moment, biting his lip. “You are right, I do owe you for your teachings.”

Tony decided to keep his comments on that to himself, edging Loki on with a hand.

  
“Projecting is something I can do, much like your non-magical device there.”

"You mean, physically?"

"I mean, magically." Loki paused a moment before commanding, "touch my hand."

Tony hesitated only a moment before he reached out to touch the thin, blue hand held out to him. Instead of feeling the cold flesh underneath his fingers, his hand simply passed through.

"Holy fucking shit!"

"See?" Came Loki’s voice from his other side.

Tony turned away to look at, what was apparently, the real Loki. He snapped his head back just in time to see the other Loki flicker and fade away. He gaped at the spot for a while, barely breathing as his mind reeled at the possibilities.

Loki shifted back into his line of sight, looking painfully uncomfortable. There was a crease between his eyebrows, and a tension in his shoulders.

Tony looked at him, his mouth still open in awe, and whispered, “ _Awesome…_ "

The tension melted out of the prince’s body, Loki’s playful smile returning once more. 

 

* * *

 

After several more escape attempts, Odin had had enough. He summoned Loki to the throne room, alone.

Loki knew he would be the only one in trouble. Of course, because Stark was actually a welcomed guest. Loki was just the sacrifice offered in place of slaughter. The tool to save the kingdom. At least, now, he had a use.

Odin frowned down at him, his single eye dark with swirling thoughts. This was not a man to be on the wrong side of, Loki was sure.

"Prince Loki, it has come to my attention that you refuse to stay in your room." Odin paused, the shadows slipping away from his face as he spoke. "Even though I set this condition in consideration of your safety."

"My safety?" Loki asked meekly, unsure if he was even allowed to speak.

"Yes. Considering you are of a race we have long since been at war with, I cannot guarantee there will not be those who do not still see you as an enemy. Those who may see it as a justice to end your life in these very halls."

Loki’s gaze fell from Odin’s face, struck suddenly with the realization of how much danger he had been in. He was in enemy territory, how could he have forgotten? Just because he wasn’t being treated as poorly as at home did not mean he was safe.

"My apologies," he choked out, feeling a cold sweat form across his body. He knew his punishment was eminent, but the Allfather had indeed been considerate of him. He deserved Loki’s apology, even if it was meaningless from such a failure.

"I think I may have a way around this," Odin spoke as he stood from his golden throne. "Approach me."

Loki stumbled to his feet, his fingers picking frantically at the hem of his sleeve. Shuffling closer, he finally managed to lift his gaze from the floor.

"I give you this form, not just for your safety, but to keep peace in my court. Only a chosen few know the conditions of our peace treaty." Odin added sadly, "Most do not even know that a Frost Giant resides within our walls."

Loki blinked up at him, watching as the staff lifted into the air and pointed at him. “… form?”

Something trickled down from the top of his head, flowing over his skin like a warm breath. Loki panicked, lifting his hands to his face to feel for fire he expected to be there. He froze when he caught sight of his hands.

They were no longer blue, ridged with small lines. They were pale, paler than Stark’s skin.

"What have you done?" Loki asked breathlessly.

"I have given you a new form. A chance to find a place here without judgement."

He barely registered the king dismissing him, he was so wrapped up in his own thoughts.

He paused in one of the many long hallways to look at his hands once more. Loki was in awe of it, the feel of his own skin being nearly warm.

But even as the pleasure grew, something else started to creep its way in, and fester. Anger. Anger at his need to hide, to become a lie.

Was it not the entire reason of his presence here to create a bond between the Aesir and his people?   
As much as he was pleased to be able to be given a chance at acceptance, there was no merit in other’s acceptance of a lie. If they could not welcome him, blue skin and red eyed, then why would he want it?

A small voice whispered from the back of his mind, ‘What of Stark?’

The small voice grew, until it had taken over his mind fully. What would Stark think of this new form? Would he smile in awe just as he did when Loki showed him magic?

He wanted to know.

Finally, Loki had something fascinating to look forward to.


	3. Pandora' Box

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My day was not all terrible, it began pleasantly yet ended in a rather complicated mess of affairs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again. Mildly edited. I swear I'll get back and edit the other chapters since my bet's were kind enough to go through them for me. I just..ghhgj...editing. I can't.

  
  
  
_Today was actually a good day. As good of a day as I can get around here, anyway. I woke up, found a huge pile of food on the table, and ate until Thor busted down my door yelling about my new workshop._ _  
  
_ _When I say workshop, I mean work building. Or even 'Work Palace'. The thing has three huge rooms, a loft thing with a bed, a yard, and a well. It's going to be a bitch to get some wiring running through there and highly doubt they have decent plumbing for the water._

_I forgot to request a staple gun._

_Fury and Thor must have worked surprisingly well together to get everything on my list. Seeing as they don't even know what half of it is, I'm surprised it made it to Asgard in one piece. I can't say I'm not impressed with the intergalactic relations we're building._

_I need to remember the staple gun next time Thor heads back to earth._

_Maybe I should write a letter to Pepper too._

_Maybe I shouldn't._ _  
  
_ _The rest of the workspace set up is left to me. Now I've got an entire electric forge, my medium sized arc reactor, my work benches, and all the screens to set up all on my own. No holograms for me. I feel like i'm in the dark ages, oh wait, I am. Speaking of old-timey stuff, I'm hoping I can wrangle Thor into doing some of the heavy lifting. He's like a farm hand on steroids. Actually, even Loki could manage it. For all the stick bug that he is, he's strong as hell. Must be an alien thing._ _  
  
_ _Speaking of Loki, I haven't seen him in a few days. The last time we met he was fine, but when I snuck out again he never showed. I'm worried,_ no _, I'm curious if he got in trouble. I think i'm in the clear because of my bullshit status as 'Visiting Royalty'. Plus, I think Thor likes me better than him. Apparently there's been too much drama between their realms to make friends that easily. Which is kind of surprising, seeing how easy going Thor usually is. Maybe it's the same pig-headedness that all these Aesir have. Like how I wasn't even asked to come along, I was_ ordered _._ _  
  
_ _Whatever._ _  
  
_ _I'm not worried about Loki, I'm just ..._  
  
"Son of Stark, a guest has arrived for you."  
  
Tony looked up from his phone, still lost in his thoughts. He stared at the servant pointlessly for several minutes before realizing the man had actually said something.  
  
"What?"  
  
The servant repeated his previous statement, and instead of waiting for a response, promptly turned around and left the room.  
  
"Hey!" Tony shouted, launching himself off the couch he had been lounging on. He swore, looked down at his phone, and saved the message.  
  
Someone walked into the room and said, "Anthony..."  
  
Tony smiled at the familiar voice and looked up to see a perfect stranger.  
  
The man was the same hight as Loki, but definitely not Loki. His clothing wasn't Loki's typical loose robes, but a dark green tunic that fitted his body. He wasn't even going to mention the tight leather pants. After a moment, Tony realized he was staring into the deep green eyes. He was being rude, again.  
  
"I'm sorry, you are?"  
  
The man's already pale skin paled further and he looked like he was going to vomit.  
  
"I... I am..."  
  
Tony frowned and putting his phone away, walked closer to inspect the man. He felt like Loki. He sounded like Loki. He even had Loki's hair. The only problem was the obvious lack of Loki blue.  
  
Tony decided to risk it, "Prince Loki?"  
  
The, now obvious, Loki shifted his weight nervously and unconsciously licked his lips. Tony watched as Loki's tongue peeked out between the pink lips, and for a maddening second he missed the small white ridges that were usually there.  
  
"Yes, I have a somewhat more permeant glamour set upon me by King Odin."  
  
Tony gaped openly, giving Loki another look over. This had been the last thing he expected to see after Loki disappeared. "This is your punishment for sneaking out? They turned you fleshy?"  
  
Loki blinked at him slowly before all signs of nervousness left his body. He drew himself up to his full height, seeming to grow another foot taller. Tony had a sneaking suspicion it was something to do with his magic. 

Loki's fidgeting hands fell to his side carelessly, as if they hadn't been picking at his sleeves just seconds before. The Princes' expression melted into a mask of cold pride. It was the same face Tony was met with when they were first introduced. It had been a while since the god had turned it back on in front of Tony. It was the face he wore when they met with Thor, or anyone other than Tony, actually.   
  
Tony shivered and took it as a sign that he said something really, really wrong.  
  
"A _punishment_?" Loki repeated, his voice a harsh growl.  
  
Tony back-paddled as fast as possible. "I didn't mean it like that, I just thought that that was why Odin called you out.I mean, not that I think it's okay that he did that. I didn't think—"  
  
"You are correct."  
  
Tony stopped his babbling, and snapped his mouth shut. He met the cold, very green, eyes in front of him with and tried not to wince.  
  
"It _is_ a form of punishment," Loki continued,his pink lips twisting into a nasty smirk. "Apparently this entire marriage is a farce. I was under the impression we were here to create a bond between my people and the people of Asgard. Clearly, I was wrong, seeing as no one is actually aware there is a _monster_ in their midst."  
  
"A... monster?"  
  
Loki crossed his arms, sinking into himself as if Tony had attacked him with his words.  
" _I_ am the monsterthe Aesir fear and hate. One of the 'brutish' creatures they warn their children of." Loki paused, sadness creeping into his eyes. "My people are just a bedtime story told to keep the children of Asgard from wandering off into the woods. I matter less here than I did in Jotunheim."  
  
Tony shifted his weight, trying to remember how Thor had treated Loki. It hadn't been particularly cruel, but it hadn't been kind either.  
  
"Why the hell are we _here_ , then?" Tony snapped. He noticed Loki flinch at the sound of his voice, and knew the god was misinterpreting his reason for the tone. "I mean, why would they force us to come here as some sort of peace treaty if they aren't actually making peace?"  
  
Loki gave him a pitying look. "I asked myself the same questions a thousand times already. I am simply left with more questions."  
  
They stood awkwardly for a while, staring at one another as though one of them might suddenly procure the answers. Tony licked his lips nervously and caught himself staring at Loki's new lips. They were so different when they weren't decked out in Frost Giant colors. There was something less regal, and more delicate about them.  
  
Tony shook his head violently to disperse those thoughts. This was the second time his lips captivated his attention, there were kind of more pressing issues at hand.  
  
"Do you want to change back?"  
  
Loki blinked at him. "Why do you ask? Do I..." he looked down at his body with a strange, uncomfortable look, "do I look hideous?"  
  
"No! No, no, no," Tony denied. "That's not it. You look fucking gorgeous."  
  
With the blue gone, Loki's cheeks flared into a nice red. Tony firmly bit his tongue, forcing himself to not match Loki's cheek color with his own flush. After a few seconds of strangled breathing on both their parts, Loki did something unexpected.  
  
He touched Tony's cheek.  
  
"Whoa!"  
  
Loki flinched back immediately at his exclamation, but Tony leaned forward and grabbed his hand, placing it back on his cheek.  
  
"You're fine," he said quietly, meeting Loki's eyes while thinking calming thoughts. It must have worked, because Loki shifted closer with a look of wonder on his face.  
  
"You're still a little chilly," Tony added with a smile.  
  
"I suppose I cannot hide my true nature entirely."

 

“That's not a bad thing, is it?”

  
Loki hummed in agreement and Tony's smile widened as the cold fingers started caress his cheek. It felt weird, calming but exciting at the same time. A mess of conflicting feelings, that Tony was in no way ready to deal with, washed over him at the sight of Loki's face.  
  
It was a gentile expression, coupled with the still pink cheeks and his slightly open mouth. It was just... Adorable.  
  
"Do you want to change back, Prince Loki?" Tony asked again.  
  
"Loki."  
  
"Yes, you?"  
  
Loki smiled apologetically. "Call me Loki. I am hardly a prince now and I never was much of one to begin with."  
  
"Loki," Tony tested the name on his tongue. It felt better without the title, more intimate.  
  
Loki stared at him, his eyes serious. "Yes?"  
  
"Do you want to be blue again?"  
  
" _Yes_ ," Loki whispered.  
  
"Then I think it's high time I show you what your fiancé is capable of."  
  


* * *

  
  
_My day was not all terrible, it began pleasantly yet ended in a rather complicated mess of affairs. In fact, I had a quite enjoyable afternoon once I was in St- Anthony's company._

_I had debated for several days whether or not to approach him in my new form. I was allowed to wander the halls freely now, yet I somehow felt less inclined to do so. To walk around in another's skin with a smile, and a lie on my lips. I did not want to give Odin the satisfaction._ _  
  
_ _Perhaps I debated too long. For when I finally plucked up the courage to visit him, he failed to recognize me. I felt disheartened, at first, when he asked who I was. I feared it was just as it always was back at home. I was not often remembered fondly, if at all. My own family members forgetting my name as some cruel joke._ _  
  
_ _It was only after a moment that I realized I must have changed much more than my skin color. Maybe my high had increased, or my hair was red. Or perhaps the color of my skin was all that defined me?_ _  
  
_ _Yet, he recognized me, in the end. I will admit, (only in the privacy of my own writings) , that it gave me great pleasure that he knew me. The fact that he recognized Odin's 'favor' for what it truly was, a cruel punishment, also gave me a great relief. I was so afraid that he would only find me appealing in this new flesh. That he would be more comfortable in my presence whilst I wore my disguise, as Odin said the Aesir would. I do not know why it matters so, but it does to me. The thought that he would dislike me at all bothers me so much I cannot bare it._ _  
  
_ _Perhaps it is because he was the first person to see my true self, and value it. When I showed him my magic, he reveled in it. When we speak, he finds me intelligent. I worry that I place too much trust in him far too soon, but I cannot help the overwhelming feeling that... No, best to stay away from those thoughts. I need to calm myself. It would not be wise to fall fast into an emotional state. I have been burnt one too many times by that flame._ _  
  
_ _But, let us return to more happy memories. The afternoon was pleasant. It started with a tour of his new quarters. Although, I suppose they should be called a Smithy, perhaps? I should ask him what he calls it, next we meet. He was quite eager to show me his 'technology' again. I have to admit, I could not fathom more than half of the intended purposes of his devices. He seemed slightly disappointed. I believe he had greater expectations of me after the phone._ _  
  
_ _After a while, he sat me down and started prodding me with different instruments. I can't say that part was as pleasant, but the conversation was a perpetual feast for the mind. He spun theories about the Bifrost I had never heard before. He is convinced, ( still, as I was unable to sway his opinion), that it was something called particles and... oh I don't know. I tried to explain to him that one remains whole for the journey and we do not simply shatter as we travel. He told me he would have to try it again to know. The atmosphere became rather awkward after that, both of us knowing we would never travel on the Bifrost again unless ordered to do so for diplomatic reasons. Reasons we agreed were unlikely to ever arise._ _  
  
_ _Everything went well until he tested some brought out a small device with a button and a dial on it. I was never entirely sure what it was, but it only took a moment between sitting there smiling and him pressing the button before..._  
  
The pain was excruciating. It felt as though he was stung by dozens of pins and then set on fire. It lasted only seconds, but pain reverberated, expanded throughout his being until he was shaking uncontrollably. Loki fell from his stool to the dusty floor without the strength to catch himself.  
  
"Loki?! Oh shit oh shit oh _shit_!"  
  
Loki mewled in pain, his eyes filling with tears as his body refused to stop shuddering.  
  
"Lo—" Tony stopped and gasped.  
  
Whatever it was he saw was so terrible that even Anthony was at a lost for words. This only terrified Loki more.  
  
"W-what have you d-done?" He managed to choke out.  
  
  
Anthony's voice came as a coarse whisper, "you're blue again... but..."  
  
Loki tried to open his eyes, but he could not see anything. They still felt wet, but it was not the familiar wetness of tears. It felt thick, oozing, and painful.  
  
"What is wrong with me?" Loki whispered in return.  
  
"Your eyes," Tony answered quietly, "they're bleeding."  
  
Loki quickly raised his hands, fingers brushing tentatively at the back of his eyelids. They were met with the same sticky substance he felt running down his cheeks in sluggish rivulets.  
  
Anthony was above him, and Loki could sense the waves of panic coming off of him. It wasn't anger. It couldn't be.  
  
 _It was only an accident._  
  
Loki was sure, mostly sure, that the pain he felt was not given to him willingly. Anthony never lashed out at him, or screamed at him. He had been trying to help Loki return to himself. 

 

 _It was only an accident._  
  
  
Yet he flinched when he felt those callused hands take ahold of his shoulders. Loki could only swallow the torrent of words that panic drove into his throat, threatening to scream in apology as he did so many times before. The words to beg for forgiveness leaped to mind, ready to appease his attacker's anger. But he chocked them back, he closed his mouth and shivered.  
  
"I won't hurt you," Tony said quietly before adding, "any more than I just did, anyway."  
  
"I am fine," Loki lied.  
  
"No, you're _not_ and I'm sorry. I'm _so sorry_. I didn't..."  
  
"Anthony," Loki whispered urgently, " I am fine. This is nothing."  
  
Stark was quiet for so long that Loki nearly forgot he was there, until a harsh whisper broke the silence.  
  
"What the hell have you gone through to make this seem like _nothing_?"  
  
"Much worse things."  
  
"Because you aren't as tall as the rest of them? Because you don't grunt and beat your chest in manly prowess?"  
  
Loki sat up slowly, leaning on his shaky arms for support. "For all things that make up me. For my failures and even my triumphs. Every thing I succeeded at was the wrong thing." He winced at his own words and held a hand up to his eyes again. "Is this permanent?"  
  
"No, I'll fix it," Tony promised in a tense voice. Loki could sense anger returning to the mortal beside him. He always seemed to get angry when Loki spoke of his past. He was still unsure as to why. Or, perhaps he just didn't want to admit that he knew the reasons why.  
  
"I think I'm gonna need some help, though," Stark added, sounding unsure.  
  
"Who would help me, especially now that I am in my own skin again, as you pointed out."  
  
"I think I know just the person. She's really not the type to care what you look like anyway."  
  
Loki could hear the smile in his voice and wondered who the person was that Anthony seemed to trust so fully. In all the time they had spent together, he had never seen the man trust anyone other than Loki himself. He skirted Thor, even though the golden-haired man seemed to have take a liking to Anthony. Loki had never seen him in the presence of Odin, or any of the other Aesir.  
  
Loki pondered it a minute more, until the pain grew too strong. "Let her help, if she is willing."  
  
"Good, stay here and I'll be right back. Don't... don't die or anything, okay?"  
  
"I'm not dying, Anthony. Stop being overly dramatic."  
  
"Well _excuse_ me for worrying about someone who is bleeding from their eyeballs after one little electrical pulse."  
  
"You may be excused," Loki replied promptly.  
  
There was a strange huffing sound that Loki placed as laughter before he heard the door open.  
  
"Then I shall excuse myself, your majesty."  
  
The door shut, leaving Loki confused as to what just happened.

* * *

  
  
  
He ran. It wasn't Tony's strong suit, being the one who usually flew over the Earth, not walked on it. He was sweating and panting like a dog in heat. It was disgusting and his lungs felt like they would pop. His heart wasn't feeling all that great either. He realized, too late, that maybe he shouldn't be over working himself like this. But fuck it, Loki was in his workshop bleeding from his god damn _eyes._  
  
So he ran all the way up from the lower courts, through the main hall, up past the throne room to the Aesir's living quarters, and skidded to a stop outside a room with a small golden door. It was a door he had accidentally wandered through one of the days he was without Loki's company. It was the door between him and his only hope at helping Loki.  
  
He knocked and panted, and waited.  
  
"Yes?" Came a soft voice just as the door opened to reveal a tall, golden haired woman. "Oh, it is you again."  
  
"Me...again," Tony panted, bending over to catch his breath. He ignored the way his heart was clenching in his chest, and hurried on, "I hate to ask you like this, but I really need your magic healing hands."  
  
The woman's smile faltered as she tilted her head. "Are you hurt?"  
  
"No, no, no." Tony shook his head and straightened up, a hand clutching at a stitch in his side. "It's my... fiancée. He's sort of bleeding."  
  
The woman's eyes narrowed before she turned on her heel and disappeared back into the room. Tony winced at another throb in his chest, taking in a deep, dragging breath.  
  
"Show me." She had returned with a small bag in her hands, pulling a teal shawl over her shoulders in a rush. She was half way down the hall before Tony caught up with her.  
  
  
Tony opened the workshop door and peeked his head in, unsure if his stunted explanation of events was enough to prepare her for what she was about to see.  
  
"Loki?"  
  
There was a shuffle from somewhere behind one of his half set up benches.  
  
"Anthony?" came Loki's voice, soft and fearful.  
  
Tony pushed his way through the door and crept closer to where he heard the voice. "Loki, I brought her here for you. Can you come out?"  
  
The woman came up behind him and waited patently. Loki's head peeked out from behind the bench, facing the wrong way.  
  
"Where are you?" He asked, his closed, bloody eyes turning past him.  
  
Tony's chest hurt again, and he ignored it again. "I'm here, Loki," he said, coming forward and gently touching the prince's shoulder. Loki flinched a little, but instantly leaned back into his touch.  
  
"Are you Prince Loki?" the woman asked.  
  
Loki tensed under Tony's hands. So he leaned forward and kissed the god's forehead in a mad hope that it would help somehow. 

 

"Stay calm,” he whispered, “She will help you, okay?"  
  
Loki went completely still until he spoke in a calm, regal voice, "Who is it who comes to me aid?"  
  
"I am Lady Frigga, that is all you need to know for now." She moved closer, looking at Tony for permission to approach further. He nodded, and she did. "Let me see your eyes, Prince Loki."  
  
Tony stepped to the side and felt Loki lean after his touch as his hands moved away. Something inside his chest clenched yet again, forcing a small gasp out of him.  
  
"Anthony?" Loki asked, his blind eyes turning towards him. "What ails you?"  
  
"Nothing, nothing. Just..." Tony paused and glanced at Frigga, "just let the nice lady help you."  
  
Loki frowned in disappointment, turning away from Tony at last.  
  
Just as she moved to touch Loki's cheeks, Tony remember something important. 

"Stop! Hold it!" He yelled, reaching out to catch her hand.  
  
Loki flinched away from his voice, confused. "What?! What is wrong?"  
  
"She can't touch you," Tony said, meeting Frigga's eyes for a moment before looking back at Loki and letting go of her hand. "If I remember correctly, you said something about burning the Aesir?"  
  
Loki jerked back quickly, nearly toppling over to the ground. "I did not realize she aimed to touch me. I... my deepest apologies, Lady Frigga."  
  
"There is no need for an apology, Prince Loki," she said with a smile. "Although, this is a bit of a problem. I shall not be able to heal you without touching you." She paused and gave Tony a thoughtful look. "Unless... Son of Stark, you are able to touch his skin and remain unharmed?"  
  
Tony nodded and made a point of poking Loki's face with a finger, causing Loki to twitch again. He muttered an apology under his breath and looked up at her hopefully.  
  
"I think I may have a way around this," Frigga said, holding her hands out to him. "If you could place your palms over his eyes. Gently, please."  
  
His nerves were starting to fray and he was more than sure that he about to become a magic conduit. But he listened, because Loki was still bleeding from his eyes.  
  
Once in position, Tony could feel the prince shivering under his hands. He swallowed any words of comfort, not quite trusting his voice at the moment.  
  
"Both of you need breathe and calm yourselves," Frigga spoke from behind Tony. Of course, he tensed up.  
  
"Son of Stark," she added, laying her hands on his shoulders, "you _must_ relax if you wish to help him."  
  
"Easier said than done."  
  
Loki whimpered a little. That was enough for Tony. Taking in a deep breath, he closed his eyes and began to think calming thoughts.  
  
 _Mark V._ _  
_ _Solar energy panels to charge my phone other than the reactor._ _  
_ _Pepper when she laughs._ _  
_ _Pepper when she smiles._ _  
_ _A smile._ _  
_ _Loki's smile._  
  
Tony's eyes jerked open, and he opened his mouth to deny what his brain was telling him just as Frigga sent a wave of magic through. At least, he assumed it was magic. It didn't feel sparkly and good, it felt like a heat washing through his body and leaving out his hands.  
  
Loki shuddered and for a second Tony thought the prince would pull away until Frigga suddenly released them both from her magic.  
  
He let his hands fell away slowly, almost afraid to see what was beneath them. There was still blood on Loki's face, but it was already congealing on his cold skin. With a few gentile movements, Tony wiped it away from his eyes.  
  
"Let's open them up, Blue's Clues."  
  
Loki sat there and didn't move, looking as though he was waiting for something.  
  
"Loki?"  
  
"Oh, yes?" Loki rushed, his brow furrowing over closed eyes.  
  
"That was your cue to open your eyes."  
  
There was a soft chuckle from Frigga, and Loki's cheeks turned a darker hue of blue. His eyes opened slowly, the Frost Giant red making it impossible to differentiate between blood, and his natural eye color.  
  
Tony smiled nervously and leaned closer to inspect his eyes. "Can you see me?" He asked, then raised a hand to hold up three fingers. "How many fingers am I holding up?"  
  
"I can see you perfectly and you are holding three fingers directly in my face."  
  
Tony grinned and sat back a little. "There he is! That's my snappy Loki-pie."  
  
The blue cheeks darkened more. "Do not speak to me as though I am some sort of pet!" Loki snapped at last, standing up to his full hight.  
  
Tony smiled up at him and reached up to pat his shoulder. "It's a term of endearment. You're gonna have to get used to it if you marry me."  
  
Loki gave him a look and started to argue when Frigga interrupted him.  
  
"It seems everyone is healthy enough to bicker," she began, a hint of amusement in her voice, "I shall take my leave now."  
  
Tony spun around and bowed clumsily to her. "Thank you for helping him."  
  
Loki stepped beside him and bowed low, one leg going back, and his hand fluttering gracefully.  
  
"You have my deepest gratitude, Lady Frigga."  
  
"Prince Loki, if I recall correctly, my husband placed a glamour upon you. What has happened to it since?"  
  
Tony's body creaked as he flinched, his head still low from the bow. His eyes flickered to the side to see Loki glancing back at him fearfully. Tony decided to take the blame. After all, he was the one who changed him back.  
  
"That would be my fault. I liked him better when he's blue. It goes with all my outfits and he makes a perfect cooler for drinks if you..." Tony stopped babbling at the laugh that bubbled out of Frigga.  
  
"I see, Son of Stark." She chuckled again and gave Loki a warm smile. "I much prefer his natural skin, myself. The markings are quite beautiful."  
  
"Although," she added, her voice growing somber, "Odin will not be pleased that you have returned to this form. He did intended his magic as a precaution against any of those who wished to harm you."  
  
Tony spoke up again, "I'll take care of it. I already know what went wrong this time, so I can change him back. I think. I won't mess up again."  
  
The queen's gazed fell to him for a long moment, before she sighed. "I will come to your aid, should you need it. Until then, be careful who sees you. There are still those who would attack before knowing your purpose here."  
  
"My purpose, my Lady, was to bring piece between Asgard and Jotunheim," Loki said in a calm voice. "I cannot see how this will be possible while I look like an Aesir."  
  
"Patience," Frogga warned, her smile returning tenfold. "The time will come for you, Prince Loki, to shine amongst us all. Until then, be content under the glamour, for your touch will not burn others, and they should find no reason to glare or harm you."  
  
"He better not going around touching people," Tony joked, giving Frigga a lopsided grin.  
  
Her laugh was gentile, but sincere. "I shall leave that for you two to discuss. Please visit me again for lunch tomorrow, if you are both free?"  
  
"But of course," Loki answered for both of them, ending his sentence with a other flourishing bow.  
  
  
After her departure, Tony turned and gave Loki a look over.  
"Are you sure you're okay?"  
  
"You brought the queen of Asgard to heal a Frost Giant?"  
  
Tony bit back a nasty comment on how few options he actually had at the time, instead replying with, "I didn't know she was a queen until just now."  
  
"How could you now know?" Loki snarled, "I was blind, what was your excuse?!  
  
"My excuse? Oh let's see, I'm not from around here, I've never met any royalty other than Thor and you, and I didn't fucking ask."  
  
Loki was biting his lip and glaring at him, but the tension was already fading away.  
  
"Loki, are you okay?"  
  
"Are you?"  
  
Tony snapped, "Can you answer the damned question with an answer, not another question?"  
  
Loki stepped closer, his face unreadable. "I am fine, Stark."  
  
"Don't do that..." Tony said, his frustration ebbing away. "Don't switch off like that."  
  
"Switch off?"  
  
Tony closed the last of distance between them and looked at him sadly. "Don't start calling me by my last name because you don't like something I do. It feels like we're starting all over again."  
  
Loki arched his eye brows. "Anthony, then."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Are you well, Anthony?" Loki repeated, his voice softer.  
  
"I might have given myself a mini heart attack, but I'll live," he replied, running a hand through his hair and looking around the workshop. "I think that's enough excitement for one day. I'll walk you back."  
  
Loki gave him a bemused look, but nodded. "Shall my mask be restored tomorrow, then?"  
  
"If it's necessary, I guess so."  
  
"Can you do it?" Loki asked, sounding hesitant.  
  
"I can. I promise no bleeding this time. I don't need another heart attack."  
  
"Something attacked your heart?"  
  
"Did you miss that the first time?" Tony laughed and headed for the door, beckoning Loki to follow. "It means I got so freaked out it felt like my heart exploded."  
  
Loki did not answer, but remained quiet for the rest of the journey back to his room. Once there, he turned around abruptly and looked down at Tony with a look of determination.  
"Do not let your heart be damaged by me or my actions. I would morn the loss of you, if no one else."  
  
Tony gaped at him, unable to stop the blush that creeped across his face. "I... You w— I don't even..."  
  
"Please have a good night," Loki concluded quickly, flashing a shy smile before slithering into his room faster than was humanly possible.  
  
Tony stared at the door for a long moment before turning back to head to his room. Halfway down the hall, he took out his phone and made a new note.  
  
 _Remember:_ _  
_ _Loki's smile._  
  
  
  
  



	4. Forget Me Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rain runs a perfectly good day between the two 'princes', which leads to painful nostalgia.

 

  
  
  
 _Today it is the rain that drags forth memories not old enough to have lost their bitter edge._ _  
_ _Anthony's plans for a 'picnic' had gone astray due to the sky opening up above us just as we made to leave the great hall._ _  
_ _The atmosphere was poor, something seemed to be weighing on his mind as heavily as my thoughts were weighing on mine. We soon went our separate ways, parting too briefly to say a satisfying goodbye. I did not think much of it then, but now I nurse a small ache for more time spent with him._ _  
  
_ _Rain._ _  
_ _It never rained in Jotunheim. Ice would pelt from the sky and strike our homes and bodies. Heavy, damp snow would stick to you, driven by the harsh wind. On those gentile days, the flakes would fall in silence._ _  
  
_ _I dislike the rain. It reminds me that I am neither home, nor anywhere I can call home. I remember that I am alone, surrounded by our thousand year old enemies. Soon to be married to man so different from me that I cannot fathom how we will continue on._ _  
  
_ _This mood has carried me into memories I would rather forget. Memories that my scars will never let me forget._ _  
_  
  
Loki was the fastest out of anyone his age. He needed to be fast, because he was always the one running away from the others.  
Unfortunately, fate was often kinder to his perusers. His own cousin was  the one who would come up with clever traps, sending a small avalanches of snow and ice to smother him. Then, they would dig him out, already half unconscious, and start their game.  
  
They would pass him between them, one catching and turning him around while the other buried their massive fists into him. Knees would drive up into his chest, fracturing his more brittle bones. They always aimed for his torso, forcing him to hide their work under clothing. Because he was small, because he was thin, he would break under their onslaught of blows.  
  
Finally, something new broke. There was a resounding crack that echoed throughout the crevasse they had tricked him into. His cousin ceased his attack at the sound, and stared at Loki with a look of disgust. The others jeered and let him go, pushing him into the ice to stand back and laugh.  
  
Loki stayed still, his lower jaw hanging loosely from his face. His muscles, sinew, bones all were battered. The blood that poured from his split skin and insides stained the snow. His deep blue skin was bruised into black.  
  
 Too beaten to make sense of anything, he tried to talk. The initial shock shed away, slipping into maddening pain. With all his will power, Loki shut it out, kept his head low, and didn't make another sound.  
  
That was the farthest they had ever taken things before, and they knew that this time it would be too obvious what had happened. They left him in the crevasse, quickly escaping to their homes. He fell into the snow and for just a moment, he let himself actually feel the pain. He screamed. The movement shifted his broken jaw, and his screams faded with his consciousness.  
  
It was days later, when Loki finally became aware enough to realize he was still alive. He had gone somewhere he had never been before, somewhere he felt safe. It was dark and so comforting he ached to leave it. But Jotunheim would not let him go just yet and he was ripped back into the cold, aching world of his life as an unwanted prince.  
  
  
"Laufeyson..."  
  
Loki tilted his head to see the speaker and felt a frown forming. Only, his face could not move without sharp pains shooting through his entire skull. So, he looked at his father with no expression at all.  
  
"You have tried, I know, to do well in your princely duties," King Laufey spoke in a calm voice. He stepped closer and continued, "I had such _hopes_ for you before I realized the truth."  
  
Loki wanted to speak, to express his confusion even. All he could manage was a glassy-eyed stare and raised brows. It did not seem to convey enough for his father to understand his thoughts.  
  
"You have been fighting with your cousins," laufey stated, disappointment growing is his voice. "Angfaurson tells me you have been cheating off of his studies, as well. I had wondered why you were excelling so quickly."  
  
Loki's heart felt like it was going to burst from his throat. He wanted to scream in frustration, or cry for his father's trust.  
  
Why? Why did his father not see things for what they were? Surely is was obvious what were lies and what were truths?  
  
"Your mother is very disappointed in you," Laufey continued, ignoring his sons pleading eyes. "As for me, I no longer consider you my son. I refuse to recognize you as the prince of Jotunheim and you shall be replaced as soon as your brother is born." He paused, his expression growing darker. "Until then, you shall be a prince in name only. You will show your face when you are expected, but you no longer hold any power."  
  
"Not that you ever did have any power, a weakling like you," he added bitterly.  
  
  
Loki was so caught up in his panic, he failed to notice the king's face looming over him, dark eyes devoid of any remorse.  
"Do you understand me?"  
  
Loki tried to speak, "fath...why..youdoithi..."  
  
"Do you understand me!?"  
  
Loki flinched, and with it came the pain again. With that, came the beckoning darkness and Loki fell into it, grateful to be welcomed back into its embrace. No matter how comforting the darkness was, once he awoke, nothing would ever be the same again.  
  


* * *

  
  
 _  
_ _I'm not okay. Or as one of the great masters once said, "I'm not fucking okay!" Or maybe that was a song, I can't remember._ _  
  
_ _I thought things would be fine like this, here in the golden palace of Asgard, but they're not. I know I have to marry prince Loki, settle in like a good little husband, be a diplomat, and suck it up. Here's the thing: I'm Tony Stark, I don't suck it up for anyone._ _  
  
_ _That sounded better in my head._ _  
  
_ _What I'm trying to say is, I never do what others tell me to do. So why am I even here? Why did I leave my -rather good- life behind? Why do I have to make another sacrifice to save the world? But most importantly of all, why did I have to give up Pepper, so everyone else could be happy?_ _  
  
_ _I miss her. It's weird not having her in my life in any capacity. I think I could have probably handled breaking up with her, if I still saw her around. We weren't just dating, I mean, we were friends. Good friends. She knew everything about me, possibly more about me than I know about myself. It's stupid, but I keep expecting her to walk through that door with a pile of paperwork and a coffee, telling me what I need to do for the rest of the day._ _  
  
_ _Maybe this is what 'growing up' actually feels like. Is this it? Is growing apart from people how you define adulthood? Because that's all my life's been, losing people. I don't feel like some mature individual, I feel old and alone._ _  
  
_ _The thing is, I'm tired. I may not be some thousands of years old, but I'm no spring chicken in human years. I spend my entire day alone, or introducing myself to some court member or another. Yesterday I spent the whole damn day talking to Thor's friends about myself and the things I've done. Oh, revel in my epic battle stories that I know you laugh about behind my back. Yeah, sorry I'm just some weakling human. I've had to literally bite my tongue to keep from telling them where they can shove it._ _  
  
_ _Normally, I like talking about myself. Normally, they're hot chicks who didn't really care about what I was saying, as long as they got close to me. But also, normally, I would come home to people who knew me and would talk about something else. People who didn't need to ask questions, but simply did things with me._ _  
  
_ _Meeting all these new people, all I do is introduce myself over and over again. I need someone I can just be myself around. I need someone like..._ _  
_  
  
Loki was standing in the hall by himself, looking outside with a dark expression on his face. It was nice to see him out without the two guards that had escorted him around, or the cloak he hid under while he walked through the halls.  
  
Tony had successfully changed his skin back to the Aesir tones that Odin had given him originally. Personally, Tony felt a little insulted for Loki's sake that Odin had chosen such a pale skin tone, considering how high contrast it was to Loki's true coloring. It was probably on purpose. Maybe he was looking into it a little too much.  
  
Tony paused at the sight and waited, just beyond a pillar, to gauge the prince's mood. When they had met earlier in the morning, things had been stiff and awkward. It was mostly his fault, he knew, but something had been bothering Loki too. By the looks of it, the prince's temper seemed to have lingered in the depressing spectrum.  
  
  
"I can hear you breathing," came Loki's voice, spoken loudly over the noise of the rain, "if you do not wish to feel the sting of my blade, you will show yourself."  
  
"Okay, okay," Tony said, coming out from his hiding place with his hands up. "No need for stabbing, it's just me."  
  
Loki's face lit up considerably as Tony approached him. There was still something heavy on the prince's mind, but at least there was a hint of a smile forming. Maybe things were looking up after all.  
  
"My apologies, Anthony, I thought you were someone else."  
  
"Has somebody been bothering you? I can give them a taste of my—"  
  
"No!" Loki shook his head sharply, backing a step away and looking a little appalled. "It... It is fine."  
  
Tony frowned and watched the prince settle into his fake calm. Something was really off after all.  
  
"Loki, what happened?"  
  
"Nothing of importance. What are you doing back here so soon?"  
  
Ignoring the change in subject, Tony pressed closer and demanded again, "Tell me what happened."  
  
A flicker of discomfort passed over the calm facade before he answered. "Someone may... be harassing me, somewhat."  
  
Tony let out a hiss of annoyance and looked around the hall with a glare, just in case the creep was hanging around. He looked back at Loki sharply. "Who is it and what have they done?"  
  
Loki looked taken aback and huffed slightly. "Why do you wish to know?" He asked, his expression remaining doubtful. "Do you wish to ride in and save me from my tormentor? I assure you, I am more than able to take care of myself!"  
  
Tony's eyes narrowed.  
  
 _What is his problem? So I'm not allowed to worry about the guy I'm was supposed to marry in a month?_  
  
"You know, you really shouldn't sneer at people who are trying to help," he replied calmly, "it makes them reconsider being nice to you."  
  
Loki tensed up more at that and back away, looking startled. This was not going the way Tony wanted.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said, frowning and backing up as well. "I won't push it, then. I'll just go for now and talk to you—"  
  
"No."  
  
"No?"  
  
Loki glanced down at his fingers that were picking away at his sleeves again, and muttered, "I wished to speak with you, since we missed the morning."  
  
"Oh..." Tony blinked at him, trying to find the right words. "Uh, okay, I guess?"  
  
Tony watched him anxiously for a while as Loki continued to tug on his sleeves, every so often casting a glance at the rain falling through the open door. The prince was giving off such a weird mix of emotions, Tony wasn't sure where to start. Clearly there was something he wanted to say to Tony, but there was also something more personal bothering him. He doubted the prince would talk to him about it, and that bothered him. Why did it irritate him so much? Everybody has their secrets, so what if Loki doesn't tell him his deep dark past. It's not like he ever asked him about his past either.  
  
Thinking about it only made his mood worse, so instead of dissecting those thoughts further, Tony decided to see where the prince would lead.  
  
"Loki," he said gently, holding out a hand for the prince to come closer. It was a small gesture, but it seemed to go a long way. As soon as their eyes met, all of the stress melted out of Loki's body, and he stopped pulling at his clothing nervously. With one swift movement, Loki stepped directly on front of him and took his hand.  
  
"Anthony, I..." He paused and glanced around before continuing in a softer voice, "we should speak elsewhere."  
  
Tony was too distracted by the oddly warm hand clutching at his fingers to register what he said.  
  
 _Were Loki's fingers always this long?_  
  
"Anthony?"  
  
"What? Sorry, you were asking me..."  
  
Loki's brow crunched together as he repeated his request. Tony silently cursed himself for ruining the mood again so soon and turned to pull Loki along down the hall.  
  
"Do you mind getting a little wet?" He asked, smirking over his shoulder as they reached the side door.  
  
"How wet do you mean? I do not disagree with a little damp, but a—"  
  
Tony jerked the prince outside and started running across the courtyard to his new workshop. He laughed at the string of curses in some foreign language that came pouring out of Loki as the rain soaked them both instantly. It was a short journey, but the rain was so heavy it was more like swimming. By the time he slammed the door shut behind them, his hair was plastered to his face and his clothes stuck to his body.  
  
He noticed, then, that neither of them had let go of one another's hands yet. A voice in the back of his head begged him to not let go, before the reasonable part of his brain took over and reminded him that he needed both hands.  
  
"I said 'damp'," Loki hissed, "not _dripping_ wet!"  
  
Tony shook his hair out of his face and started to grin at the prince before he got a good look at what the rain did to him.  
  
It was a crime, for someone to look that good when standing there in sopping wet clothes and glaring hard enough to set fire to the rain. His deep blue tunic was clinging to his torso in a down right sinful manner. And the prince's hair? There was no other word for it but sexy.  
  
Tony shook his head again, more to get the raging hormonal thoughts out of it than to remove the water. He really shouldn't be thinking about him like this, even if they were getting married. It's all a game, the whole thing was just politics. Nothing more.  
  
"Sorry," he apologized with a quick smile before ducking his head and shuffling past him. Damn it all, his cheeks were turning red like a virgin at his first strip club. Time for science. Science never failed to distract him. He could tinker and listen to Loki at the same time. But first, a couple of towels.  
  
"Hang on, let me grab you a blanket or something," he called out as he climbed the ladder up to his loft. After digging around through some things he managed to find a towel or two for Loki and a shirt for himself. He slid down and landed with a thud, turning and tossing the towels to Loki in one swift movement.  
  
"Catch!"  
  
Loki flinched, but managed to catch both flying objects with ease. Tony scoffed at the glare he received and pulled his shirt off over his head. He was already tossing it in the corner when he heard the startled gasp.  
  
"What's wrong... oh," Tony trailed off when he saw the wide green eyes fixed on his chest. Well, on the glowing object in his chest.  
  
"What in the nine realms is _that_?" Loki whispered urgently, shifting a bit to inspect it better.  
  
"It's my arc reactor," Tony replied easily, as if that explained everything.  
  
Loki crept closer, hunching over to peer at it with curious eyes. The tips of his wet hair brushed against Tony's chest, and there was really nothing he could do about the pleased gasp he let out.  
  
Loki looked up suddenly and met his eyes. It usually took some effort to read the prince's feelings, but sometimes Loki wore his emotions right on his face. Like right now. There was concern, fascination, and a little surprise.  
  
"Does this hurt you?" He whispered as if speaking too loudly would somehow worsen Tony's pain.  
  
"Sometimes it aches," Tony replied, his voice softening as Loki grew more concerned. "It's actually keeping me alive, Loki. So stop looking at me like that."  
  
Loki pull himself up and gave him a strange look. " I did not mean to make you feel uncomfortable."  
  
"You didn't, I'm not. You were looking at me like I was dying or something. I hate it when people look at me like I'm dying. Especially when I'm dying."  
  
Loki's eyes widened and his hand touched the reactor suddenly. "You are dying?!"  
  
"No! I mean, yes..." He winced and tried again, "I'm not dying horribly right this second. Eventually I will, maybe twenty to thirty years from now. Give or take a little depending on how much ale I ingest here."  
  
That did nothing to elevate the prince's concern. In fact, he grew more pale and his eyes fell away to look at the reactor again.  
  
"So little time?" He muttered.  
  
Tony unconsciously leaned into his touch, suddenly overcome with the desire to hug the prince. He sounded so disappointed, so miserable. Tony hated it when Loki got like this.  
  
"Humans don't live as long as you guys," Tony replied carefully, "me shorter than most. I've abused myself, and been abused too much to live long and prosper."  
  
" _Abused_..."  
  
That one word came out almost breathlessly, and carried such a heavy weight behind it. Tony knew, since the first time he touched Loki and the prince flinched, that he had a bad past. No one wore a mask like that without a reason, or pulled himself away from others like they might bite. Someone hurt Loki, often and for a long time.  
Tony decided right then and there that if he and said person ever met, they were going to die.  
  
Tony frowned, his brain running full circle back to why they had come here in the first place. "Loki, who's been bothering you here?"  
  
The hand that had been pressed against his chest flinched back and tucked itself away. Loki stayed close to him, but would no longer meet his eye.  
  
"Loki, _tell me_."  
  
"He was pleasant, when I met him the other day," Loki replied quietly, his voice layered with bitterness. "We ran into one another while I debated seeing you after the change. He was quite complimentary and I felt flattered at first."  
  
The prince heaved a great sigh and finally looked up once more. His expression grew cold as he continued, "It became more than that, and I had to refuse more... inappropriate advances."  
  
  
Tony all but growled. It didn't matter if it was just a political marriage, Loki was his. He was his only friend on this boring hunk of planet and he had enough troubles already without some dick head flirting with him.  
  
Taking a calming breath, he asked as non-threateningly as possible, "Who?"  
  
Loki started fidgeting with the towel and glanced away again. Tony wanted to scream with frustration.  
  
"Loki, he can't do this to you," he tried again. "For one thing, it's against the rules, for another, no one's allowed to touch you."  
  
Loki turned quickly and stared at him, his eyes wide. "No one may touch me? You... you are rather protective, are you not?"  
  
Tony gritted his teeth. "So what if I am? I'm your fiancé, isn't that to be expected?"  
  
Loki's face fell into what looked like disappointment. Tony cursed himself for the third time today. He was on a fuck-up roll.  
  
"So you protect my honor only out of some sense of duty?" Loki snapped, his body shifting away automatically.  
  
"I don't give a fuck about honor," Tony hissed, moving closer again. "I'm worried about you because I care about you. When will you get that through your thick skull?"  
  
Loki went silent for a while, the sound of rain filling the room in a sudden roar. Tony felt something settle over both of them. He hoped it was understanding.  
  
  
"Fandral."  
  
"What? Wait," Tony ran a hand down his face. "Thor's buddy? The blond bearded jerk?"  
  
"Yes, the blond bearded jerk," Loki replied with a hint of a smile.  
  
Tony shook his head and give him an apologetic look. "I should have know, actually. He flirted with me too."  
  
Loki's eyebrows arched and an amused smirk formed on his lips. "Oh? Even _you_?"  
  
"Don't make it sound like its so impossible!"  
  
"That's not what I was implying," Loki purred in response, growing more amused. "I was simply surprised in his taste."  
  
"I'm pretty sure the guy fucks anything that walks," Tony grumbled, "I wouldn't put it past him to go for some furniture too."  
  
Loki laughed suddenly and loudly, startling Tony so much he dropped his shirt. Tony grinned as he watched the prince slip away into the real Loki again. It was different, because now his cheeks flushed pink and his green eyes flashed with amusement. But it was still the real Loki with his wide toothy smile and strange little giggle.  
  
  
"There we go, that's what I wanted to see," he said fondly, crossing his arms and leaning back a little to admire the view.  
  
  
Loki's laugh trailed off into small chuckles as he tried to catch his breath. When he met Tony's eye, he grinned. "You wanted to see him fornicate with the furniture?"  
  
"No. Well, maybe," Tony said, shaking his head at the thought. "I wanted to see you laugh again. You've been so down lately, I thought maybe you were controlling the rain."  
  
Loki's smile grew sad as Tony spoke, and for the last time Tony cursed himself.  
  
"I'm afraid I am not responsible for the rain," Loki said quietly. "If I attempted to control it, it would turn to ice and snow."  
  
"No shit? Really? Can I see?" Tony babbled, ducking down suddenly to pull his shirt on.  
  
Loki looked taken aback for a moment before nodding.  
"I suppose it should be alright, if only for a moment."  
  
"Great!" Tony grabbed his hand again, pulling him to the door and opening it with gusto. "Do you think it's ever snowed here?"  
  
"I doubt it," Loki replied, peering out at the rain thoughtfully. "I was told that it never rained here unless Thor was in a mood."  
  
"So this is Thor's fault then?" Tony glared out at the down pour. "Remind me to scold him for ruining our picnic."  
  
Loki smiled and stepped past him into the rain. Almost immediately, he was obscured by the downpour, becoming just a dark smudge. His only warning was a crackle before every drop of rain around Loki froze in the air in tiny droplets of ice.  
  
The prince was standing, looking up at the sky with a calm smile on his face. In the space of a blink, the sky lightened and the rain slowed into soft fakes of snow.

* * *

  
" _Beautiful_."  
  
  
Loki tore his gaze away from the familiar sky above him to look at his companion. The man was staring at him in rapt fascination, his nose and cheeks already flushing with cold.  
  
"Is it? Does your home not have snow?" Loki asked, amused at the childlike smile on Stark's face.  
  
"Not like this," Tony said, stepping closer and looking around at the frozen rain still hovering around him.  
  
"It is not something I have often done, seeing as there is plenty of snow to be had on Jotunheim."  
  
"So I'm the first to see you do this?"  
  
Loki blinked and frowned, trying to remember if he had shown any other this power. He had not. No one wanted to see his magic, not once. It was disgusting, weak. Tony was the first person he had met who wanted to see his magic, who grew excited for it.  
  
Something quivered inside of him, like birds trying to escape his chest. His breath caught in his throat as he met Anthony's eyes.  
  
"Yes, you are the first."  
  
Tony flashed his grin and started jumping around and batting the frozen drops out of the air. The snow continued to fall around them, building up on the cobble stones of the court yard. Flakes stuck in Stark's hair and melted on his face while he danced around like a child.  
  
Voices fell from windows far above them, calling out in bemusement.  
But Loki could not tear his eyes away from Stark as he played in the snow, every so often turning to smile at Loki.  
  
"Thanks," he called out, finally running back over to Loki.  
  
"For what?" Loki asked. Now that the man was closer, he could see he was shivering and his fingers were bright red with cold. Loki reached out and took Stark's hands in his, ignoring the soft whimpering voice in the back of his head that warned him that it was dangerous.  
  
"For showing me this," Tony replied, showing no concern whatsoever for the fact that Loki was now holding his hands. "It almost feels like home," he added, looking around once more in amazement.  
  
Loki watched him, not caring for the snow or the cold, or the voices of the others. He watched the weariness fade from the man's face as a spark of hope began to form behind those brown eyes.  
  
He smiled warmly and squeezed Anthony's chilled hands gently.  
"Yes, like home."  
  
  
  



	5. Breathe, Just Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's something about Loki...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, I'm dancing between about six fics right now. ;_;

  
  
_ I'm not sure how to say this, but I guess it doesn't matter since no one but myself is going to read it anyway. _ _  
  
_ _ There's something about Loki. _ _  
  
_ _ And by something, I mean everything. He's probably the most perfect person I've ever met, and he's not even  _ human _. _ _  
  
_ _ Somehow, this whole arranged marriage thing is starting to feel less like a stupid set up, and a lot more like a friendship. Which I never, in a million years, thought would happen. I feel closer to him than I felt with Pepper even after years of knowing her. Which is wrong on so many levels. _

 

_ I'm just going to shove the guilt for that away for another day and be honest here. You know, on my phone. _ _  
  
_ _ Where no one can see it. _ _  
  
_ _ Anyway, can you imagine If this entire situation was different? _ _  
  
_ _ I have a theory about this: If I never left Earth, and Loki was somehow human, I probably wouldn't have even noticed him. Never mind getting to know the guy intimately, I would still be in California with Pepper, and I would miss all that is beautiful about Loki. Every time I try to imagine him in New York or Cali, he doesn't fit. He seems so delicate, separate from everyone else. _ _  
  
_ _ Anyway, In this hypothetical world, Loki would probably be some kind of foreign royalty. Not exactly the type to hang out with this playboy billionaire, getting drunk and blowing things up. _ _  
  
_ _ At work, I met with the other side of the political powers. Namely, the guys carrying the clubs and pitchforks, not sipping the tea and signing paperwork. I didn't exactly rub elbows with the more sophisticated types. _ _  
  
_ _ Loki really is sophisticated. For someone who's supposedly a prince, he's a lot more down to earth then most of the nobs I had to put up with at those damned fundraisers back home. Probably because of the way he was treated. He's always down playing his intelligence as if he's trying to blend in with the background. He still hasn't told me anything about his life at home, but I don't expect him to. If anyone knows about dark secrets and a painful past, it'd be me. Unfortunately if he ever decides to open up to anyone, I doubt it's going to be me. Regardless of how close we've gotten, it's only been a few weeks since we met. Even if I'm the only one he talks to, apart from his occasional hissing at Thor. When I think about it, I realize that we haven't actually talked about ourselves at all. It's been all fun and games, or magic and science. If you want to get technical. Well, and terror, if you want to count the eye bleeding thing. Which I don't want to think about ever again, thank you very much _ _  
  
_ _ Onward to a happier subject. _ _  
  
_ _ I guess what I'm really enjoying about him most is how refreshing Loki is. When I showed him a power tool, he flipped out and started poking and prodding at it. He asked a dozen questions and even asked for more demonstrations. When was the last time I got  _ that _ excited for something? I can't even remember the feeling of learning something new and amazing, something that blows your mind to the point where you just stand there and babble with glee. _

 

_ Well, there was the snow. But that's a little unfair, because... magic. _ _  
  
_ _ But there Loki was, looking at the video on my phone like it was the most astounding thing he'd ever seen in his entire life. Which it probably was. Just wait until I show him the suit. _ _  
  
_ _ But here's the great part. He doesn't take anything for granted. Even if he's watched that video a dozen times already, he thanks me every single time. That's what I love about him, he treasures things. _ _  
  
_ _ I just love that he's so... _ _  
  
_ _ Well shit. _ _  
  
_ _ See? I'm in trouble. I can't even begin to say how wrong this whole thing is. He's everything I want to be, everything I used to be. A little childish, like me. A little crazy, like me. Really intelligent, creative, funny, charming, excitable, sometimes down right adorable. I could go on, but I'm aggravating myself enough as it is. _ _  
  
_ _ The thing is, he is my fiancee, but I didn't expect to like him so damned much. Don't tell Rodney, but we're practically best friends already. Anything more than that is just wrong. He's like a kid, really. I don't care if he's a thousand something years older than me, he's an innocent. Every time I flirt with him, albeit accidentally, there's this horrible fucking guilt riding me. Every time I admire the way his clothes hug that body of his, I want to bite my tongue off. I shouldn't even be doing these things anyway, Pepper was the one who was supposed to be in his place. Even if we never really said it out loud, we had a thing there. But here I am, a few weeks in and already hitting on this guy like some cheep bimbo at a kegger. I mean, it's more than that, obviously. I care a lot about him. I trust him. I think about him pretty much all the time. I can't take my eyes off him. I just... _ _  
  
_ _ There's  _ something _ about Loki. _

* * *

  
  
"The Lady Frigga has invited us to that lunch finally," Tony called out from his new workbench. He placed the soldering gun down and stripped off his gloves before heading over to the ladder. "Loki? Did you hear me?"  
  
"I heard ' _lunch_ '," Loki replied, his head popping out over the edge of the loft.  
  
"Lunch. The queen. You remember, right?"  
  
"Surprisingly, I do. Considering I was bleeding from my eyes and suffering from trauma you induced, I deserve some sort of commendation."  
  
Tony clicked his tongue and climbed up the ladder, stripping off his shirt after he reached the top. "I already apologized for that a hundred times already, Princess. If you keep bringing it up, I'm going to cry at you as your reward."  
  
Loki made a face at 'princess' but didn't comment on it. Instead, he watched Tony carefully out of the corner of his eye as Tony wiped the sweat off his body and dug around for a new shirt. Tony chose, also, to not comment on the green eyes that were following him, but enjoyed the attention all the same.  
  
"Are you coming, or not?" He asked, pulling a black tunic out of a pile that was more Loki's style of clothing than his. Actually, it could have been Loki's shirt for all he knew. The prince had been spending a lot of time in his loft lately.  
  
"Of course I shall come. She saved my life, and was kind enough to offer to dine with such strangers as us."  
  
Tony rolled his eyes and went back to search for something other than jeans to go with his top. "We aren't _that_ weird, you know."  
  
"That is not what Thor and his friends have been saying," Loki replied sadly, letting the book in his hand drop to the floor. "They can be quite cruel, even well within earshot."  
  
"Thor's been talking shit, now?" Tony asked over his shoulder. "I thought he was above that, or are you just adding him in there because you don't like him?"  
  
Loki hissed and sat up, throwing a pillow at Tony. He couldn't help but laugh at the prince. Loki had become a lot more comfortable around him ever since the snow ball fight. Which the prince had won, of course. Never ending magic snow balls had little to no competition against simple man power. Tony took it as a good sign that Loki was happy enough to win without that strange guilt trip he usually went on. He hated it when Loki withdrew into himself like that. It actually hurt him somewhere in his chest every time he watched the shutters come down and the sparks go out in his eyes. It wasn't Tony's heart, you know, because that was cheesy. Just somewhere in the chest.  
  
"I'll have you know, I heard these words directly from the Golden Lion's mouth," Loki said, sitting up straight and holding a hand to his chest as if reciting poetry. "'Prince Stark and his soon to be are quite an oddity. I am unsure how welcome they shall be at our gathering. I fear Fandral may cause trouble for them.'"  
  
Tony turned to him, a pair of leather pants in hand. "I love how you didn't even _bother_ to leave out the part where he's worried about us." Tony snickered and shook his head. "Do you even know _how_ to lie?"  
  
Loki's eyes flashed dangerously before his face shifted into something akin to embarrassment. "I lie perfectly well when need be. I simply _chose_ not to lie to you."  
  
Tony's smugness took a blow from that, and he stumbled to find the right words in response. When he found none, he opted for the next best thing.  
  
"Hnnh," he grunted and slipped behind the small screen that separated the room, finally getting to changing his clothes. He cursed silently when he tried to pull up the leather bottoms. They were way too skinny and a little too long. Definitely _not_ his pants, and they _definitely_ wouldn't fit him.  
  
"Dammit, Loki!" He called out.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Why are there so many of your clothes around here? These aren't even my pants and now I'm pants-less and I can't get more pants without putting my jeans back on."  
  
Loki laughed at his whining before he felt the leather beneath his fingers stretch and shrink. Suddenly, they pulled up easily and fit just right. Well, maybe a little snug in the whole crotch and ass section.  
  
"While you're at it, you mind loosening the grip on the jewels a bit? Some things need to breathe."  
  
There was a soft choking noise from beyond the screen before the leather loosened a little more.  
  
"Will t-that suffice?" Loki called, sounding muffled.  
  
Tony slid from behind the screen and began with a laugh, "that's perfect now... are you hiding under my pillow?"  
  
" _No_."  
  
Tony stopped by the bed and crossed his arms. "I'm standing right here, and I can plainly see you hiding under my pillow."  
  
Loki hissed in response and kept the pillow over his head.  
  
"If you're worried about my precious staff, it's fine," Tony said, throwing himself down next to Loki, enjoying the small squeak the prince let out as he bounced in the air.  
  
With a grumble, Loki finally peeked out. His cheeks were only faintly pink, but Tony had a sneaking suspicion they had been much darker only moments before.  
  
"I was not worried about your... privates. I am sure they did not need _that_ much space," Loki replied, still half nestled into the pillow.  
  
"Did you just... are you saying that I'm small?!"  
  
Loki grinned like a cat. "Perhaps."  
  
"I may be... shorter, but I assure you I am quite well endowed, thank you very much. Do I have to show you to prove my point?"  
  
"No! No, no. That is fine!" Loki squirmed, his cheeks flushing furiously. "I trust your evaluation of its length."  
  
Tony snorted with laughter, and found himself unable to control the urge to ruffle Loki's hair. "If we're done talking about my dangly bits, why don't we go meet with the queen?"  
  
Loki scowled at him halfheartedly and brushed away the offending hand from his head. "I will have to fix my hair now, thanks to you. Shall I meet you there?"  
  
"So what, another hour?" Tony joked.  
  
"I am glad you find much amusement in the fact that I _actually_ take care of myself," Loki replied smoothly, sitting up and brushing off imaginary dust. Well, maybe not 'imaginary'. His workshop _was_ almost directly below the loft, and there were a lot of metal shavings floating around.  
  
"Perhaps you can learn from me?" Loki added as he stood up, a hand brushing across Tony's shoulders slowly.  
  
Tony shivered from the casual touch and looked up over his shoulder at the prince, a goofy grin already in place. "If I did that, who would stand there all dirty and smelly to make you look good?"  
  
Loki scoffed and smacked his shoulder playfully before jumping off the edge of the loft. Tony's heart did its usual flip, even though he had seen the prince do it several times before. He may or may not have screamed when Loki did it the first time.  
  
The prince landed effortlessly below and stalked across the workshop, pausing at the door to add once more, "I shall see you in a half hour."  
  
"That's only half the time I said, why did you even bother arguing with me on this?"  
  
"Because it is amusing," was his reply before Tony heard the door shut with a thud.  
  
Tony smiled to himself and flopped over, his head landing squarely on the pillow. After a moment he nuzzled his face into it and took a long, deep breath. He chuckled fondly to himself before he realized what he was doing.  
  
The pillow smelled like Loki. He just purposely sniffed his pillow because he liked the smell. _Loki's_ smell.  
  
Oh for fucks sake.  
  


* * *

  
  
_  
_ _ Today was not intended to be a busy day, but rather a lazy one. I had every intention to waste the time away with Anthony. By the time I found my way to his building, the noontime bell was ringing and he was surprisingly already at work. I had fully intended to abuse my access to his home to read more of his fascinating books before the man had to remind me of the Queen's invitation. _ _  
  
_ _ Of course, of all days it  _ had  _ to have been today. The very day of Thor's party, and perfectly timed to interrupt my relaxation with Anthony. Not that we lack in time together, seeing as most of the Aesir avoid each of us as though we have some sort of disease. That and the mortal seems to be quite invested in his work, and can't be bothered to leave his shop as of late. So for the past week or so, we have spent many hours in his private space yelling out to one another over the din of his machines. Even though I am not a part of the physical process of his work, he has been including me in some of the more creative aspects. Anthony told me I bring an 'artistic touch' to his work and fondly called me his muse. I still do not see how I am of assistance, since I have yet to see the final product of his efforts. _ _  
  
_ _ His work is beautiful, and has a touch of his own creativity. What he lacks in ornate decorations, he makes up with delicacy and sleek designs. If I were ever to have an armor, I would ask him to make it for me. I hope he will show me his own armor soon, since he has done nothing but brag about it since I asked what that red box was. _ _  
  
_ _ What work he has shown me, is astounding. The object in his chest is still his most accomplished work, seeing as it gives him life. I asked about it again recently, and this time he was much more forthcoming about its purpose. Although, I can tell he is still hiding something about it. I feel there is a history to this object. There must be a reason why he has metal in his body to begin with. Someone must have put it there. But no, he would not tell me such a thing. As close as we have grown to one another, I am still a stranger to him. Why should he trust me? No one ever has. _ _  
  
_ _ Back to the previous subject. _ _  
  
_ _ Anthony's other inventions are quite curious, and he is always eager to explain them to me. There was one he claimed to drill into something. He then demonstrated its powers to me. I did hint at him of my desire to own one of my own. He seemed to feel I didn't need one, and asked what I would use it for. When I told him I was unsure, he called me a magpie. I still do not know what that is, but he didn't seem to mean it in a cruel way.  _ _  
  
_ _ His explanations of his work are thrilling, better than any epic tale of battles and conquests. I adore the way his eyes light up when he begins to describe his process, the way his smile widens when I respond to him with more questions. The passion is infectious, and I often find myself itching to create just as he is. He draws so much out in me that I never knew I had. I feel things I cannot fully name, for they are far too unfamiliar to me. All I know, with the uttermost certainty, is that I am  _ happy _ and it is Anthony that makes me happy. _ _  
  
_ _ I cannot even begin to understand how this happened. When I set out for Asgard, I was sure I would hate whoever they paired me with. I had only been told that an Aesir prince waited for me, and my original assumption was that it would be the mighty Thor. Even a lowly being such as myself had heard of Thor. When I was permitted to the feasts back in the palace of Jotunheim, my father spoke of his triumphs. His eyes would often find me, sitting beyond the tables near the edge of the room, a small plate balanced on my knees. His thoughts were always transparent, aimed to strike me. Intended to hurt.  _ _  
  
_ _ "Why, why could my son not be like Thor? This miserable creature who is not fit to even dine with us." _ _  
  
_ _ Such shame in his eyes at my existence. That shame is what drove my hearted for the thunderer all the more. _ _  
  
_ _ But it was not he, who would be my partner. I was presented with such a short, weak mortal as my mate. When I met Anthony, I was terrified, angry even, at the joke of a man before me. I wanted to break him, or break away from him. But he has proved time and time again to be much more a man than any of the Aesir I have yet to meet. He accepted my tainted fate and pulled me from the cloud of hatred that followed me from my home. _ _  
  
_ _ And now my memories of home feel all the more bitter, for the comparison to my life as it is now. Happiness I never had, that I never deserved, and it was given to me freely. I did not earn it, but was blessed with it. _ _  
  
_ _ Perhaps, though, I have grown too comfortable in Anthony's presence. He is so easy to fall into pace with that I tend to forget my place, and speak freely to him. Which is fine when we are locked away in his home, but in front of others, it can be dangerous. He had even given me a pet name, 'Lokes', which I do not truly understand the purpose of. It is almost harder to say than my true name. _

 

_ The issue at hand is still this: _

_ I have changed because of Anthony, and in turn, I may have spoken much too freely in front of the Queen. I was already nervous as it was, but when Anthony showed up.... _

* * *

_  
_  
He had changed the black tunic for red, and coupled the dark leather pants with a small gold belt. His hair was clean and swept back, looking almost golden in the late afternoon light. Loki's eyes could not stay away from such a delicious sight. Red, was definitely his color.  
  
"You... you look," Loki stumbled over his words and let them die in his mouth. What was the appropriate term to say?  
  
 _You are very attractive?_ _  
_ _I find you so very appealing in such clothing?_ _  
_ _You look so desirable I no longer hunger for food, but for you?_ _  
  
_ _Oh by the Norns..._  
 _  
_ _He may be his fiancee, but they were still no more than friends._  
  
"Sexy?" Stark replied easily, sauntering up to him and offering his arm to Loki. "I know. I learned it from watching you. Isn't this what you wanted?"  
  
Loki gazed at him a moment longer before accepting his offer and hooking his arm through Stark's. "I thought you were to stand there looking horrid, only to boost my appeal?"  
  
"I changed my mind. I want to be sexy too."  
  
"I do not understand the term, but I assume 'sexy' is something positive?" Loki asked, leaning closer to speak into his ear as people passed them. There were a lot more curious glances than before, but Loki suspected that was because they were actually outside of either of their rooms for the first time in weeks.  
  
Servants rushed past them at as they ambled slowly towards the queen's sitting rooms. Tony hummed softly for an answer, his mind elsewhere.  
  
"Are you going to be present at this meal, or shall I be left alone to embarrass myself in front of the queen?"  
  
Tony blinked at him for a moment and shook his head. "I'll talk. I'll probably talk so much you won't get a word in edge wise."  
  
"I think I would prefer it that way," Loki admitted, glancing away down the hall. They had nearly reached their destination.  
  
"She'll be sick of me in five minutes," Tony said with a grin. "I'll need you to take over before she impales me a with a salad fork."  
  
"Not if I do not impale you first."  
  
"Challenge accepted."  
  
"Oh?" Came a gentle voice from behind them, "has a challenge been issued?"  
  
Tony spun them both around and beamed at the woman who approached them.  
  
"Not at all, m'lady. I was just making a bet with my fiancé."  
  
"A bet on what, dare I ask. And what was the wager?"  
  
"Good question. Loki, my dearest, what should we wager?"  
  
Loki quirked an eyebrow and answered, "I thought the threat of the salad fork was our wager."  
  
"No, no, that's your reward if you're right. We need to settle my prize."  
  
"Perhaps reward him with a kiss?" Frigga offered with a wink. They both gaped at her, unable to answer for the sheer shock of it. The queen smiled at the two of them and ushered them into the small dining room attached to her apartments. "Then perhaps something else to show your affections. A gift of sorts?"  
  
Tony nodded thoughtfully, already moving past the recent embarrassment. Loki bit his lip and tried his hardest not to blush. It had been so unexpected, Loki nearly shouted, 'no!'. Not that he didn't want to kiss Anthony. Or was that wrong? Did he?  
  
"Loki, can you make me one of those knots you're always fidgeting with?"  
  
Loki jerked his head up, his mind slowly catching up with what Anthony said. "Oh! You... You want one of _those_? They are nothing but things to keep my hands busy."  
  
Anthony gave him a look that he could not interpret and sat down in one of the chairs drawn up around a small, round table. The lunch was already spread across it, simple yet lavish at the same time. It was far more food than he had ever been given at a meal time at home, but simple by Asgardian standards.   
  
"I shall make you one, should you win."  
  
"You know i'm going to try to make this salad fork thing happen now, right?" Anthony asked, looking over the table and letting out a despairing sound. "There aren't any salad forks?!"  
  
The queen laughed and sat to one side of Anthony, leaving the closest chair free for Loki. "I am afraid I do not know of what you seek, Stark. Perhaps I can offer some assistance in your quest? I do hope for you to win your bet."  
  
Loki scowled half heartedly and sat down after the queen had been seated, feeling awkward and nervous. "No cheating, now, Anthony."  
  
"How is it cheating if there aren't even any salad forks? If i'm going to lose, I'm not having you stab me with one of those," he said, pointing at the sharp, two-pronged fork meant for meat.  
  
Loki chuckled and banished it at Anthony teasingly, earning himself a squawk. The queen laughed again at their antics before settling into an interesting conversation with Anthony. It seemed that the two of them had spoken before on the subject, but now Anthony was trying to bring Loki into it.  
  
"Magic is something that can be measured just as well as my science," he argued, a chunk of cheese hanging ungracefully from his mouth as he spoke. "Everything has a value that can be recoded and organized."  
  
Frigga shook her head and swallowed the sweet, honey mead that had come with the meal. "You could not even fathom the depth of 'information', as you call it, that one would have to record. The branches of Yggdrasil are the heart and soul of magic, they span the nine realms and more. It is not something you can study, but something you must feel."  
  
Loki blinked and chewed thoughtfully before joining in, "Anthony may be able to do it."  
  
They both looked at him now, surprised and waiting for him to continue. Loki swallowed the chunk of apple with difficulty and continued, "he has... ways of measurement that I have never seen before. There is a device he created that can even give the gift of life. I feel that what he does may be a form of magic in itself."  
  
The queen was nodding and tapping her chin in thought. Loki paled slightly and glanced at his friend, afraid that he had said too much. This was the queen, after all, and a well known magic user. Loki had probably just insulted her and her craft. His entire existence was an insult.  
  
"I would like to say that the thing that 'gives life' is magical," Anthony began with a sad sigh, "but it's really just something you can find anywhere in the universe. Magnetism is nothing but energy."  
  
The queen stilled her tapping finger and frowned. "How can one harness the power of such stones to aid in saving a life?"  
  
Anthony looked uncomfortable for the first time since they arrived, and Loki blamed himself.  
  
Curse it all! He knew Stark was secretive about the device in his chest. He had barely been able to pry what information he could from Anthony the last time he asked.  
  
"That's a complicated question with an even more complicated answer. Er..." Here he paused and looked at the mostly demolished lunch in front of them. "I would give you visual aid, but I'm worried it would upset your stomachs."  
  
The queen gave him a pointed look and said, "I am not a queen, nor married to a warrior for no reason, Stark. Do your _worst_."  
  
Anthony laughed, and it sounded only mildly forced to Loki's ears. He was impressed at the friendship the man had managed to build with the queen so easily. They were an odd pair, yet somehow they complimented one another. Loki frowned as a wave of jealously washed over him at the thought. He had worked so hard to get what little information he could from the man, yet she simply asks and he is ready to bare it all? Was Loki so unimportant to him? Just a member of the audience, it seemed.  
  
Loki leaned back in his chair and fixed his eyes on Stark's chest, unwilling to meet his eyes at the moment. The man stood and pulled his tunic up, showing off his well toned body for all to see. Loki bit back the hiss of irritation that threatened to escape him at the sight.  
  
That was for _his_ eyes only.

Was it not?    
  
"See this?" Stark began, pointing at the glowing piece in his chest, "this is basically a glorified magnet."   
  
He reached for it, gave it a twist, and popped it out from his chest. Loki tensed and nearly flew from his chair. "What are you  _ doing _ ?! You shall die!"   
  
Anthony blinked at him and let out a short, breathless laugh. "It's still plugged in, Lokes. This is the power source, see the wires? I'm fine, no worries."   
  
Loki glanced from the glowing object in his hand to his face, growing paler by the moment. "If- if you insist it is so..."   
  
"I  _ promise _ , i'm fine. Now," he said, turning back to the queen and smiling apologetically, "I was basically hooked up to a car battery, which you have no idea what that is but it sucks compared to this, and I had this magnet sitting in my chest. When I got away..." His face tensed immediately and he stopped talking.   
  
Loki shifted in his seat nervously. The man never got any further than hints at some sort of capture. It had happened not too long before he was called to come to Asgard and, according to Stark, he was perfectly fine about it. Yet, right before his eyes, Anthony proved to not be well. There was a hole in his chest, so deep Loki could not see the end of it from where he sat. There was metal in his body, a hole in his heart. How could he be well? How could he smile and run through the snow? Gods, how could he even  _ breathe _ ?   
  
With a small, flat sounding laugh, Anthony popped the device back in and let his tunic fall again. "The reason that's even in there is my own fault."   
  
The queen studied him a moment before speaking up, "you harmed yourself? Surely it was an accident, to cause such damage to your own body..."   
  
Anthony stood there awkwardly for a moment, not meeting either of their eyes. When he spoke again, his voice was hollow and flat. "I made weapons, back on Earth. And by weapons, I mean all the weapons. Anything you needed to blow up, I was the one to make it. I was the king, and my kingdom was  _ war _ ." He paused and chuckled darkly, "they had a name for me, actually. 'Merchant of Death'. And they weren't far off with that one."   
  
"Anyway," he continued, keeping his gaze on the table, "in the end, fate is a funny son-of-a-bitch and I was the one who got blown up for once."   
  
Loki tensed even further, somewhere along the lines he had stopped breathing. After a lingering silence, the man looked up and found his eyes. "I've got metal in my chest that will kill me if it reaches my heart. Maybe I deserve to die by my own devices, but I've got this strange determination to live. So I patched myself up, stopped selling things that go boom, and became something of a hero. I've been fine ever since...well, minus one  _ more _ father figure."   
  
Something in those last words were so bitter and pained that Loki let out an explosive gasp. He then proceeded to cover his mouth in shame and hide his pale face from their eyes. There was a mutter of voices after, but Loki was no longer listening.   
  
He could truly die, at any moment. If someone were to pull the device out, would he drop dead right before Loki's eyes? He should not be allowed to work in such a dangerous environment. Not that anyone could ever tell the man what to do, but still.   
  
_ The feast. _ _  
_ _ The feast tonight... any number of accidents could happen! How fragile was it? What if someone threw something at him? He could die. Anthony would die. Anthony will die! _   
  
"Loki."   
  
Loki clutched his chest and curled forward in his chair. The voice called again, but he could barely hear it over the rushing in his ears.   
  
"Loki?!"   
  
"I... cannot..." He hissed through clenched teeth.   
  
His world shifted and he suddenly felt weightless. Loki found that his eyes had already closed against his will, and the pain in his chest seemed to lessen as a warmth pressed against his body.   
  
"Hang on," came a deep voice close to his ear. From somewhere further away, he heard someone tell him to lay him down. Loki's world twisted again, and suddenly he was flying.   
  
"Just  _ hang _ on," the voice said again, so Loki did.   
  


* * *

  
  
  
Loki was pale, and dammit he should have noticed a lot sooner. He should have known something was up when he fell silent like that. It wasn't just the nerves, there was obviously something wrong. So obvious, Tony wanted to kick himself for not spotting it.   
  
But now it was too late, and Loki was curled up in his arms as he rushed back to the only place he could think of. His workshop. It was the only place he had ever seen Loki relax, and relaxation was something the prince sorely needed.   
  
"Almost there, just breath, okay?"   
  
There was a soft mutter of lips against his chest, and nothing more.   
  
_ God dammit. _   
  
Tony put on a burst of speed, his chest burning with every breath. Oh, right, decreased lung capacity. He had been warned back then that this would happen.   
  
_ Oh well. Too late now. _ _  
_ _ Always too late. _ _  
_ _ Fuck. _   
  
Tony kicked at his door with a move that, at any other time, would have made him swell with karate skills pride.   
  
"Okay, I..." He winced and gasped for air that just refused to come. "Shit... I can't... It's a  _ ladder _ ."   
  
Loki stirred ever so slightly and pressed his face further into his chest. Tony swallowed the panicked sob that threatened to escape him. It was unmanly, and not helpful.   
  
"Loki, come on. You just have to do your fancy... teleport thing."   
  
Loki shuddered and a thin, shaking hand clenched his shirt. There was no verbal response, but a second later Loki was gone from his arms. Tony hoped the prince had ended up where he was actually supposed to be, and climbed the ladder quickly.   
  
His chest seriously was starting to hurt now. He had been running around a lot more than usual since he got here. Pepper would be proud, or worried. Probably the latter.   
  
"Lokes?" He wheezed, reaching the top and spotting the curled up body on his bed. When he got no response, he made his way over and fell to his knees by the bed.    
  
_ Shit. More bruises. Dancing tonight is going to feel fan-fucking-tastic. _   
  
"Loki, can you... please just breathe for me?"   
  
Loki murmured something and a hand crept forward, groping blindly for something. Tony didn't think twice about it, but reached out and gripped it tightly in his own hand.   
  
"You're okay, right?"   
  
"...fine..."   
  
Tony let out a breathless laugh and slumped against the bed, his lungs screaming for more air. A panic attack threatened to creep in, which would only make matters worse.   
  
"G-good..." He managed, plopping his head down against the mattress. His breathing was heavy, and was starting to sound a little wet. If he had the energy, he would actually be concerned. Instead, he focused on the cold hand still clasped tightly in his own, and have it a squeeze. It squeezed back and Loki shifted suddenly, moving his body closer.   
  
"You are unwell," came Loki's voice. "I... I caused this."   
  
Tony jerked his head up at the sadness in his voice and met watery, terrified eyes.   
"Oh stop," he snapped, "you had a panic attack, i'm having a panic attack. We're all good... and panicky and crying is... seriously not going to help either of us."   
  
Loki tried to pull away, but Tony held on tight. Instead, he managed to push himself off the floor and crawl up into the bed with him. Loki let out a small gasp, but didn't struggle when he was pulled against Tony.   
  
"Just relax... please. For both of our sakes."   
  
Loki was frozen for a moment before he nodded and started to loosen up. Tony smiled to himself and buried his face into Loki's hair, his arms wrapped firmly around the prince's smaller frame.   
After a few, painfully long, minutes, Tony could breath again. There was still an ache deep inside his chest, but he wasn't a fish out of water anymore.   
  
"Feeling better?" He asked, one hand stroking down Loki's back.   
  
"...yes."   
  
"Are you ready to talk about it?"   
  
"...no."   
  
"Can I just put something out there?"   
  
Loki remained silent, and Tony assumed that was a 'go for it'.   
  
"Did I scare you with my chest hole-arc reactor juggling act?"   
  
Loki was still for a moment before nodding slowly. With a frown, Tony pressed his face further into his hair, taking a deep breath.   
  
"I'm sorry... I don't usually share when it comes to my past or something that can potentially kill me. I don't know what came over me."   
  
Loki let out a huff against his chest that could have either been a laugh or a grumble of irritation.   
  
"I mean it, though. I'm  _ fine _ . So please don't scare me like that again. I seriously thought you were gonna die or something. And then I would die, and the Nine Realms would fall into war and chaos and everyone would curse our names until the end of time."   
  
There was anther huff, this time definitely laughter. "You are full of nonsense."   
  
Tony chuckled and brushed his fingers back up his spine. "Nothing in that sentence was a lie. Okay, maybe the name cursing stuff. I don't think the elves have heard of me yet."   
  
"You would not die from my death, I highly doubt we are as important as all that, and I hope the elves never hear of you."   
  
"You wound me," Tony whined, blowing Loki's hair around suddenly. The prince squeaked and pushed himself back, just far enough to glare at him eye to eye.   
  
"You seem to have a fondness of messing up my hair," he said with a slight pout.   
  
"You seem to have a fondness of letting me."   
  
Somehow that sentence came out about 80% more flirtatious than Tony intended, and he almost laughed as Loki's eyes widened in surprise.   
  
"Maybe I do," the prince answered a moment later, still holding his gaze.   
  
Tony stared at him, this time he was surprised. "You let me do it, don't you?"   
  
"Perhaps."   
  
"Do you..." Tony trailed off as something in the air changed around them. It felt like the world decide enough was enough, and shut down everything in his brain but for the bare minimum. It was just his five senses now, and they were filled with Loki. The warmth under his hands and against his chest. Loki's almost spicy smell, enveloping him. Loki's green eyes captivating his gaze and refusing to let go.   
  
His brain kicked in enough to tell him to do the thing he wanted to do, and deal with the consequences later. 

So he kissed him.   
  
Loki almost melted against him, and Tony took that as a sign that what he was doing was allowed.  _ Very _ allowed.   
  
The prince hummed against his mouth, and parted his lips enough to allow Tony to deepen the kiss. It wasn't expected, not after the fear Tony had always seen in Loki's eyes, but he wasn't going to question it right now.   
  
_ Brain, you can shut up again _ .   
  
Loki was making soft, purring sounds, and his hands had found their way up to Tony's hair. The feeling of his cold fingers against his scalp made him shiver with something more than the chill. Tony's hands followed his motion and slid up his back to cup the back of his neck and pull him closer.   
  
Suddenly, the room was too hot, and there wasn't enough air. Tony broke the kiss with as gasp and pressed his forehead against Loki's, trying to breathe. 

His mind was starting to do that thing called thinking again, and it wasn't welcome.   
  
"Anthony..."   
  
Tony opened his eyes and found Loki staring at him with bright red cheeks and a relaxed smile on his face.   
  
_ Huh, so where's my guilt i'm supposed to be feeling? _   
  
"Are you okay?" He asked, unsure of how to even inquire about such a thing.   
  
_ Was my kiss bad? Did it scare you? Should I even be kissing you? Have you even done this before? _   
  
_ No, don't ask that one. Don't ask any of them. Shut up, brain! _   
  
"I am... well," Loki responded, shyness creeping back in. " _ More _ than well," he added in a whisper.   
  
Tony was smiling, and before his brain could start over-thinking some more, he kissed Loki again. It was more gentle this time, like a promise for later. When he leaned back to look at Loki, the blush was even darker.   
  
"Would you be horribly insulted if I said you were cute?"   
  
Loki shook his head and quickly nuzzled into his chest. He was obviously hiding.   
  
"You're  _ so _ fucking cute..."   
  
"Well you are  _ not _ ."   
  
"Thank you, I pride in my manly lack of cute."   
  
"Am I not manly, then?"   
  
Tony snorted and nuzzled back into his hair, breathing in his the scent again. "Oh you are plenty manly, my lungs can contest to that."   
  
"Your lungs?" Loki murmured against his chest.   
  
"I just ran all the way here carrying you bridal style. You are manly. Aka, heavy."   
  
Loki jabbed at his ribs and turned his head, placing an ear against his chest. Tony tensed a little and waited for the verdict.   
  
"You sound raspy, like the wind through a gully."   
  
"That was far too poetic for my wheezy lungs."   
  
"You sound like Thor's drunken snores, only on the inside."   
  
"Much better," Tony scoffed and placed a kiss on the top of his head. "It should pass by the time we need to get ready for the party thing. If you still want to go, anyway."   
  
Loki tightened his arms around him and responded hesitantly, "if you are unwell, you should avoid the feast."   
  
"Loki, i'm not 'unwell'. I'm probably healthier than I have been in years. All this clean air, healthy food, lots of exercise. Hell, I even got to do weight lifting today."   
  
"Go to the party and suffer," Loki grumbled.   
  
"Only with you by my side."   
  
Loki leaned back and studied him seriously. After a long moment he sighed. "Only to look after you. Do not expect me to have fun."   
  
Tony grinned and bumped their noses together affectionately. "I would never presume for you to have fun at a party. What nonsense, you're only allowed to have fun with me."   
  
Loki looked torn between jabbing him in the ribs again, or kissing him. Luckily, it was the latter.   
  
This time, Tony made some embarrassing noises into the kiss, and when the prince pulled away, they were both flushed and panting slightly.   
  
"I think..." Tony began, smiling sheepishly, "that I can officially say... you take my breath away."   
  
Loki blinked at him slowly for a long moment. "I think I can officially say you are the strangest man I have ever met."   
  
"I kind stand out, huh?"   
  
"Are you going to be trouble at the feast?"   
  
"I promise to behave, if only for you," Tony replied, batting his eyes at him.   
  
A small frown appeared on Loki's face, and Tony felt the mood dampen.   
"Somehow, I have the feeling trouble will find us anyway."   
  
"Don't day that, Loki. We'll go, eat lots of food, ignore everyone who sucks, and then go home to sleep." Tony paused, waiting for a smile. When none came, he nudged him with his nose. "Okay? It'll be  _ fine _ ."   
  
Loki nodded and graced him with a weak smile.   
  
"If you say so, then so it shall be."   
  
  


 


	6. Listen and Repeat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unedited. 
> 
> ...  
> Please don't hate me.

 

 _I did not know there we so many wonderful things one could find on another's body. The tongue, for example, is a wholly underrated thing. Perhaps it is just Anthony's skills with said thing, but I never felt such excitement until he traced my body by the patterning across my skin._ _  
  
__Then again, the last time I was touched so intimately, I was only half conscious and probably bleeding. The tongue had felt like a violation, like a knife drawn across my flesh._ _  
  
__No, I cannot even compare the two sensations. Anthony is gentile, where he was not. Anthony stops touching me when I ask, where as he continued when I begged him not to. Anthony looks at me as though.... I am special._ _  
  
__He looked at me as pray._ _  
  
__He, he. I cannot even write his name. Will he always invade my life like this? Will the thoughts of pleasure somehow trickle back to the pain he wrought? How can I look at Anthony's happy smile and even dare to think if him? They are nothing alike, yet in comparison alone I am forced to remember him. Him._ _  
  
__He has marked me forever, has ruined me forever. I cannot even enjoy what Anthony wishes to give simply in memory of him. Yet..._ _  
__Yet Anthony gives promises and time and reassurances. I have never spoken of it, of any of my time in Jotunhiem. But I have never needed to. He knows, I can see it in his eyes. He knows I have been hurt, that I have been sullied by another. I heard the edge in his voice when he confronted Fandral. I saw the anger in his fists when he fought him._ _  
  
__Although, it was not entirely unwelcome... the bastard deserved it._

* * *

  
  
"You look _beautiful_ , woops... I mean handsome."  
  
"I see a compliment in either," Loki replied with a shy smile. He had dressed in a more traditional robe, closer to that which his people would wear in ceremony. But the tailor showed up and had given him such an appalled look, Loki had to change.  
  
He was, of course, wearing his Aesir mask and was forced to choose a coloring to match that. It irked him, nearly as much as the tailor, to find colors that actually suited him. They simply could not agree on anything, and Loki never did like to wear red. Too much blood in his past to enjoy seeing the color on his body. Besides, red was Anthony's color and he needed to match his lover's outfit as well.  
  
So, Loki went with silvers and a dark green velvet. His under tunic was like chain-mail, weaved of silver fabric that sparkled just like metal. Above that he wore a black leather vest and a deep green overcoat that fell to the floor. His forearms were lined with dozens of silver bracelets, scattered with ornate knots and animals spun of silver He had agreed to it all, every drop of decoration the man could provide, in hopes to stun Anthony.  
  
It had worked marvelously, for even though the man was quick with his words, he was still standing there admiring Loki without noticing anyone else around them.  
  
"Loki, what did they _do_ to you?" He asked breathlessly.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
Anthony moved closer at last, his eyes bright and playful. "They dressed you up to look so yummy, but I don't even know where to start unwrapping my gift."  
  
Loki smacked his arm with a snort and hid his blushing face in his shoulder. "Please do not speak of undressing me after I _just_ finished dressing. It took hours to wrap this gift up for you."  
  
A deep chuckle tickled his ear, and he might have given in and undressed yet if the God of Thunder had not joined them.  
  
"My brothers, my friends!" Thor called out, approaching them fast with wide arms. Loki flinched, knowing what was to come. The man crushed them together in the most unwelcome hug, as always.  
  
"Welcome!" He bellowed in their ears, "I am glad you both decided to join us. I have been much looking forward to meeting you outside of diplomacy." Thor winked at Anthony, and Loki bit back a possessive snarl.  
  
"I look forward to drinking you under the table, Blondie," Stark answered easily, extracting Loki and himself from the prince's arms.  
  
"Why drink under the table, friend, when we can dance drunk upon it!"  
  
Loki snorted as the image played out in his head and glanced at Anthony. He was grinning his usual wide, toothy smile, but it was completely fake. Startled, Loki observed him a little longer, tuning out most of their conversation around him. Anthony had never been that uncomfortable around Thor before now. He had yet to find out why, but it was worrying him now to see how much Anthony seemed to not want to be there.  
  
"Loki, my darling?"  
  
Loki blinked at the amber eyes that now fixated on him. He had missed something while lost in his worries. "My apologies, I did not hear what you asked."  
  
"I asked if you wanted to sit down, apparently a feast means eating until you puke," Stark replied with a more honest grin. Loki smiled back and nodded, taking the offered arm and letting him lead them to the table.  
  
Thor had pulled away to greet his trio of warriors and the warrior maiden who Loki had seen fight with the rest of them, and with far better skills. It was a source of great amusement, now, to watch them practice. She had yet to lose a fight since he started observing them from Anthony's window.  
  
"You're miles away, tonight," Anthony commented as he pulled the chair out for Loki. "What's eating you, Gilbert?"  
  
Loki pursed his lips a little and waited until Anthony seated himself before leaning close to speak, "Why are you upset with Thor?"  
  
"I'm not, it's fine."  
  
"Something has changed of late," Loki whispered, "do not think you can fool me so easily."  
  
Stark grumbled and bumped his nose against his cheek, ignoring the glares and muttering coming from across the table. "I talked to him about Fandral before we met up. Things got a little... _heated_ ."  
  
"Heated?" Loki asked, glancing down the table at the prince and his friends. They weren't seated too far away, just enough to show where the diplomatic couple really fell in Asgardian politics. Not quite the end, but not next to the king's chair either.  
  
"I didn't punch him in the face, if you're worried."  
  
"I doubt he would have hugged you if you had, moron."  
  
"You say the sweetest things, but really..." Anthony's eyes hardened suddenly and he shifted away from Loki as if by some wordless command. "I'll tell you about it later. Let's eat and make marry, or whatever it is they do here."  
  
"FRIENDS!" Thor yelled suddenly, standing up and thumping the table to get their attention. "I welcome all of you to this celebration! For what are we celebrating, you may ask." He paused dramatically before raising his mug. "Why my coronation of course!"  
  
A round of cheers went up from the table and Loki politely clapped. He noted that Anthony did nothing but take a drink.  
  
"Oh, no need for all that noise just yet!" The prince grinned, already flush from excitement or ale. "It is in a months time, so there's plenty of time to be spent with me before then. After that, I shall be far too busy for the lot of you!"  
  
The group bellowed with laughter, and Loki smiled a little bitterly.  
  
Was it truly _so_ easy to become king, here in Asgard? One must simply be born into it, to hold no skill in speaking or the rights of the land? Did Thor even know another language? Perhaps there was more to the thunderer than he knew, but somehow, Loki doubted it. How was it that such a careless man could ascend the throne with so little grace, whilst Loki was cast away for doing only as he was meant to do.  
  
"Eat, my friends! Tell stories of my greatness before I fall into the boredom that is kinghood."  
  
Loki could not hold back the snarl that escaped his lips. He only hoped the second wave of cheers and laughter had drowned it out. His vision blurred with anger before red and the smell of hot metal filled his senses.  
  
"Shh... save the angry cat routine for later." Anthony whispered in his ear.  
  
"He acts as though—"  
  
"I know, I know..." Anthony nuzzled into him, blocking out the sights and sounds of the cheerful crowd around them. It was just the two of them again, and Loki felt himself relax against his body.  
  
"I apologize. I forgot we must behave in front of others," Loki mumbled bitterly.  
  
"It's a curse, really, to be this two faced." Anthony moved back and a wave noise hit Loki's ears once again. "But be thankful we aren't the smiling idiots we pretend to be. Right? I'm right."  
  
Loki smacked his arm again and laughed more honestly. Perhaps the evening could be salvaged yet.  
  
  
The people around them grew more drunk as time passed. There had been eating, at some point, but it had fallen into straight drinking soon afterwards. Ale and wine were not things Loki held a great interest in. Certainly not enough interest to ingest such copious amounts of it. Anthony had not, after all, engaged Thor in the drinking contest. But seemed rather content in keeping Loki company amongst the few sober members of the group.  
  
The lady Sif had joined them after the larger warrior of the trio attempted to grope her and ended up on the floor with a sprained wrist. They had conversed for a while, passing light hearted compliments that turned more earnest as Loki began to praise her fighting skills.  
  
"You move much quicker than the rest, which I feel is an important skill," he said.  
  
"Speed is key," she replied, her usually angry eyes brightening in recognition of her skill, "even the biggest brute can be taken down with quick application."  
  
Loki nodded and smiled knowingly. "Being smaller can often have it's benefits. If not for my size, I would have not been able to slide under another's legs and attack him from behind."  
  
"How clever! You must show me how you—"  
  
"So you fight like a woman, as you look like one?" came a drawling voice.  
  
Loki turned as was met by a flash of gold. Fandral had never learned the term, 'too much', and had decided to cover his body in golds and yellows. Loki could tell he was aiming for the sun, but got a more washed out feeling instead.  
  
"You speak as though a woman's fight holds no value," Loki snapped. Anthony's hand squeezed his arm slightly. And he got the message.  
  
 _Don't start a fight, if possible._  
  
Fandral merely scoffed and took a long drink from his mug. "It holds value, to be sure. But there are _other_ skills a woman holds that I find much more... _Fascinating_ ."  
  
"That's wonderful," Stark said sweetly, "why don't you go look for those qualities in the brothel down town."  
  
"And _sully_ my body?" Fandral sneered at the thought and shook his head. "No, no. One must have quality. Like your beautiful wife here."  
  
Loki bristled and opened his mouth to speak.  
  
"Oh, apologies. I meant husband. All the same," Fandral purred and stole Loki's hand from Anthony's arm, "you _are_ beautiful."  
  
Anthony tensed beside him, and Loki felt a shiver of fear crawl down the back of his neck.  
  
" _Excuse me_ , are you hitting on my boyfriend?"  
  
"I would _never_ hit such a specimen of grace and beauty," Fandral spoke as if insulted. He leant down and kissed Loki's hand before muttering, "why, Stark, do _you_ hit him?"  
  
Two things happened at once. First, Loki jerked his hand away from those vile lips, his face turning red with rage and embarrassment. Second, Anthony drove his fist right into Fandral's left eye.  
  
Sif let out a hiss and pulled Loki away from the two men quickly, giving them a wide birth. Loki tried to move around her to get to Anthony, but she stopped him with a gentle touch. "Do not engage with them."  
  
"Anthony will be hurt!"  
  
Sif gave him the most unimpressed look. "You are with a man who looks like _that_ , and you think he is the one who will be harmed?"  
  
Loki blinked at her a few times before he heard the sound of another hit. Looking up in fear, he was admittedly startled by the sight before him.  
  
Fandral was on the ground now, one hand over his newly split lip. Anthony stood above him, fists clenched but otherwise looking unbearably calm. When the blond began to rise, angry words already pouring from his mouth, Anthony simply struck him again.  
  
"Shut. Your. Fucking. Mouth." He hissed between each hit. Somewhere in the crowd, someone whimpered at the violence. It seemed brawls were welcome, not one sided fights.  
  
"Anthony," Thor spoke suddenly, approaching the two men. "He has resigned the fight. You need not hit him anymore."  
  
"He's still _breathing_ ," snarled Anthony, placing a kick into Fandral's groin. The blond man whimpered weakly and stayed down this time.  
  
" _Stark_ ," Thor growled, and it was nothing less than a command.  
  
Loki flinched when Anthony turned around at last. Those bright amber eyes were almost black with rage, and for a moment Loki felt an old fear grow in his stomach. So Stark could be brought to violence. Did that mean those same rage-filled eyes could be directed at him? Would Loki, one day, anger him enough to draw his blows?  
  
Loki bit his lip and waited in fear for those dark, angry eyes to find him. When they did, he let out a small gasp as he watched the dangerous animal turn back into the man he knew.  
  
"Loki..."  
  
The razor's edge to his voice was gone, replaced with what almost sounded like regret. Loki pulled away from Sif with more bravery then he felt, and approached him tentatively. He knew this man. This was Anthony again.  
  
"Come, I think it is time we left them to their marry making," he said quietly as he took Anthony's hand. The man looked at him with lost expression and let Loki pull him all the way back to his workshop in complete silence. Loki had to push him through the door and once inside, he simply stood and stared at the floor.  
  
"Are you harmed?" Loki asked, coming around to look him over. "You seem well enough."  
  
He was met with a frown and a nod of the head, but Anthony remained silent.  
  
"What is wrong?"  
  
No answer.  
  
"Come on, then. Let's get out of these gaudy clothes. Yes?"  
  
No answer, no movement, nothing. He just stood and stared miserably past Loki's shoulder. Loki frowned and tilted the man's head to look at him. "Speak to me. Usually I have trouble silencing you, so you must understand why this is starting to scare me."  
  
"Sorry—" he wheezed before clearing his throat and trying again, "i'm sorry for scaring you. I shouldn't have done that."  
  
"I said your silence frightened me, not the violence."  
  
"Don't lie," Stark whispered, "I saw how you looked at me after. You were... _scared_ ."  
  
Loki froze, his fingers in the middle of unclasping one of the many golden buckles on Anthony's outfit. With a nervous swallow, he met the worried eyes in front of him once more. There was no sign of anger or violence now, just a deep sadness that Loki wasn't quite sure he understood. It was clearly an old ache, not entirely from the fight today . Perhaps his Anthony was haunted by memories of violence too.  
  
"My... Anthony" Loki began, continuing to pull away the man's adornments, "I cannot lie and say I was not startled. You and I both know... you know of my feelings towards violence. So I cannot lie and say I did not feel a fear of it. But it is not a fear of you, not ever. Not as I know you."  
  
"I could _never_ hit you," Anthony whispered urgently and choked, ducking his head to hide his face. "He... he just... to _say_ that, I wanted to fucking kill him."  
  
"I know, I know." Loki pressed a finger to his lips and leaned his forehead against his. Anthony tried to speak and let out a strangled sound. "Sshhhh... all is well, Anthony. We are safe, alone, and full of food. All is well."  
  
Anthony huffed softly and found his lips a moment later. The kiss was damp with tears, but as gentile as Loki remembered his kisses to be.  
  
"All is well," he repeated, and he almost believed it.  


* * *

  
  
 _I've never been a 'glass half empty' sort of guy. I guess I'm not exactly a half full one, either. I'm kind of the guy who fills said glass with more whiskey before it's even empty. Drink, pour, repeat._ _  
  
  
__So when I say everything sucks, I mean everything fucking sucks._ _  
  
__Why the complete 180 from my last note? Well, I'll tell you. Or, maybe I won't. What's the point of even writing this? Oh, right, to keep myself as sane as possible. Look how well it's working._ _  
__Cue eye roll._ _  
  
__How about I talk about something else for a while? I could talk about the dinner party a few weeks ago, but that wasn't much fun. I guess I could talk about the much-more-fun after dinner party with Loki._ _  
  
__He's so cute, sometimes I just want to grab him and not let go. Loki knew I was pissed off and a little—lot miserable after all that shit, so he does he go and do?_ _  
  
__He goes and tries to do a strip tease. I mean, I don't think Loki even knows what a strip tease is. But there he was, peeling off layer after layer of silver and green right in front of me. He never once took his damn eyes off of me, even if his face was borderline purple by the end of it. But seriously, If that's not a strip tease, I don't know what is. I didn't even mind that he stopped at the boxers... my boxers, by the way._ _  
  
__If I wasn't already an emotional wreck from the day, physically exhausted, and a little wary about touching him, I would have brought that sexy thing to bed with me. I mean, come on. He was standing there with nothing on but my boxers, just looking at me. Did I mention they were my boxers? Do you have any idea how hot that is, just the fact that he had been wearing them that whole time we were out?_ _  
  
__Jesus, and here I thought I had perverted thoughts in high school._ _  
__When did I start caring about stuff like this, anyway? Maybe it's a part of that little thing called denial._ _  
  
__Anyway, nothing's happened since that night. Nothing sexual, anyway. We kiss... a lot. We snuggle, we sleep together in a non-sexual way, we play games, read to each other, work on inventions, eat together... Okay, maybe I better settle with:_ _  
  
__We do everything together and i'm not even remotely sick of him yet._   
  
_I mean, we don't even know each other's pasts yet. Maybe it doesn't matter, for once. Maybe it's okay to just be us and not be whoever we used to be._

 _But that's kind of a problem now, because I don't know how much longer I can be myself for him._ _  
  
__I should start telling him about my life back on Earth. So he can have something to remember, maybe something to tell others._ _  
  
__I'll tell him about Yinsen, and Pepper, and Rodney, and what an asshole I was. Maybe I'll even tell him about my childhood, if you can call it a childhood._ _  
  
__I'll tell him everything about who I used to be, so I don't have to tell him about the current me._ _  
  
__I don't think I can say it, not to that smiling face. Not when I've watched him crawl out of his shell and start to live._ _  
  
__I just can't tell Loki that i'm dying..._  
  
  
Tony's fingers hovered over the keyboard on his phone and began to shake and twitch. His eyes automatically drifted up to the blinking, blue line that was waiting for more words. He had nothing left to say.

 

So, with a sigh, he erased the note, turned off the phone, and let it drop into his lap. He eyed the darkened screen with a strange sort of satisfaction, before turning his head to look out the window.  
  
It was sunny and warm outside, and he could just make out the sounds of clashing metal and laughter. Tony smiled a little and leaned his head against the glass to hear better. Loki was out there somewhere, sparring with Sif. Spending time with others, breaking out of his shell, and finally just living.  
  
He placed a hand on his chest, muttered, "i'm still breathing," and went outside to join them.  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Just a reminder to some, this is set after IM1 and before IM2. Just so you know.]


	7. Fixing A Hole Where The Rain Gets In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki finds out.

  
_  
_ _ Looking back, maybe the palladium wasn't such a good idea. Then again, I didn't exactly have a lot of options at the time and the first one was built in a damn cave. Here I am now minus JARVIS, my real workshop, and money. _ _  
  
_ _ Maybe I should just take the damn thing out and die in one glorious heart attack instead of slowly being poisoned to death. _ _  
  
_ _ You can see it now, these little black veins are crawling across my chest. They're almost up to my neck, which means I won't be able to hide it from people much longer. There's an metaphor in there somewhere, I know it. _ _  
  
_ _ But the problem is, well,  _ one _ of the problems is Loki. He wouldn't understand if I just dropped dead one day because I popped my magic chest cork out. Then he would probably blame himself for the rest of his life, because that's what I would do in his place. At least the poison gives me more time to... what? _ _  
  
_ _ I guess spend time with him. Maybe explain it someday. Soon. _ _  
_ _ Or maybe I can act all surprised when my organs start to fail. _ _  
  
_ _ 'Oh, what's this? I'm dying? Who  _ knew _...' _ _  
  
_ _ Yeah, like he wouldn't see through that in a blink. Can't cheat a cheater, or lie to a liar, or fool a... fooler? Who comes up with these things, seriously? _ _  
  
_ _ Anyway... _ _  
  
_ _ I have to say, I can be a damn fine actor when I set my mind to it. I don't think he's noticed that anything's wrong so far, which is great because things have been really good between us. Unfortunately, he will figure it out if I keep laying around in the loft instead of working on projects like I normally do. Or if we progress past wearing clothes at some point, which sadly I've had to avoid. _ _  
  
_ _ I haven't done anything new work-wise while he's around the shop, mostly because I get tired a little too quickly and maybe also because I passed out twice while working in the heat. _ _  
  
_ _ Note to self, put down the hot metal rod before you drop to the floor. Hot metal and skin, equals fuck no and a worried boyfriend. _ _  
  
_ _ Wait, he is my boyfriend now, right? We kiss, snuggle, giggle under blankets, and do each others hair. That has to count for something. Yeah, boyfriend sounds about right. The arranged marriage is just politics, we made our own damn relationship.Take that, Odin.  _ _  
  
  
_ _ Oh yeah, that second reason for not working when he's around, is that all my work has been focused on fixing this damn thing in my chest. Which I've had a grand total of 0 successes to show for it. I don't have enough material to experiment, I don't have enough equipment to make another reactor just to work with, and I don't have enough energy to do all the work myself. The medium reactor is being used to power everything in the shop, so I can't take that a part. I need so much more raw materials just to get through the testing stages, never mind actually applying my findings to a new and shiny arc reactor. _ _  
  
_ _ Normally, I would go through Thor to get anything I need. Which is something I haven't done since my first month in the shop because of that shit with Fandral, also not my fault. But, maybe I should have thought of this ahead of time, you know, before I even came here. Never make one of anything. Especially if said thing is keeping you alive. _ _  
  
_ _ So far, I've been trying to keep up by replacing the palladium chip inside before it reaches the point where it fries. This keeps the reactor safe, but also means i'm running back and forth to change it every 10-12 hours now. It doesn't help that I keep missing the turn point where I could still reconstitute the palladium and end up with a useless melted mess. _ _  
  
_ _I'_ _ ll be completely out of the stuff in a week. _ _  
  
_ _ Oh, did I mention it hurts, i'm exhausted, and an emotional wreck? Here I thought alcohol poisoning sucked... this hits you with almost the same effects, without the pleasant buzz beforehand. I'm seriously kind of surprised no one's noticed yet with the way i've been wobbling around. Actually, I think the queen might have an inkling ever since I ran out on our breakfast date last week. I told Loki it was a bad stomach, but she was giving me this concerned look... _ _  
  
_ _ I swear she knows. _ _  
  
_ _ Which means I should probably talk to her about it sooner than later, even if I still can't decide when or how or if I even  _ want _ to tell Loki. _ _  
  
_ _ What if it was Pepper? Would I tell her, or keep her out of it until I fixed the problem? _ _  
  
_ _ Who am I kidding, I wouldn't tell anyone. I would lock myself away in the lab and work until I either fixed it or died. I'm just that kind of a selfish, stubborn asshole. But, herein lies the problem with Loki... _ _  
  
_ _ Loki is really special, I mean in a lot of ways. I don't really know what I was expecting when I came into space to get married, but it certainly wasn't Loki. Who would have expect a blue alien husband who can control magic and ice and god knows what else? Maybe some people, alien extremists from New Mexico or something. But you show me a big, blond, alien guy who claims to be the God of Thunder and I expect some nuclear family shit when I arrive. Not this beautiful, lithe man with blue skin, a snappy attitude, and a bigger heart than one would expect for someone so battered. _ _  
  
I hate that he's been through shit, and I hate that he can't tell me. But I guess it's just_ _ a part of him, like my dad is a part of me still. That kind of abuse shapes you into something different from the others, changes you into someone who can be 'normal' ever again. You've seen too much, you can't ever go back. It's okay, though. At least, I think it's okay. Not the abuse part, the being unique because of our experiences part. _ _  
  
_ _ But, sometimes it's like Loki's two different people, and I don't just mean the Jotunn skin versus the Aesir skin. I literally mean two personalities clashing together. _ _  
  
_ _ On the one hand, he's smart, prickly, royal, and down right sassy. On the other, he's shy, a little wishy-washy, and easily spooked. He's like one of those psycho cats I met in a Detroit alley way, once. Don't ask what I was doing there in a dark creepy alley way with a bunch of scraggly looking cats. I might have seen them out the window, and I might have had six cheeseburgers in the car, and maybe I stopped to feed them. _ _  
  
_ _ All of them were like Loki. They would come close and snap at your hand, claw the burger right out of it, all confident and speedy-like. The next second, they're running away, eyes wide and spooked like I did anything more than sit there and let them claw the shit out of me. Which I did, I just sat there, no reason to run. _ _  
  
_ _ Feral, that's the perfect word for Loki. _ _  
  
_ _ My little feral blue cat. _ _  
  
_ _ Fuck, I really like him. _ _  
  
_ _ Shit, I  _ really _ don't want to die. _ __  


* * *

  
  
"What are you doing?" Loki asked, peering over his shoulder at the phone.   
  
Tony fumbled to hide the screen, dropped it, and tried to catch it with his foot. All of this ended with him sending the thing flying across the room, and he winced when it hit the wall with a nasty crack.   
  
"My... apologies." Loki blinked at the phone and added, "I think?"   
  
"My fault, clumsy hands," Tony said, launching himself from the bed to pick up his phone. He turned it over and discovered the screen had cracked down the middle. "Oh... well, that's the end of that."   
  
"Is it broken? Can you fix it?"   
  
Tony stared down at the small cracks radiating out from the center. The screen was dark, but he could still see them as the light reflected through the edges of the glass. It was almost a perfect negative to the dark lines that traced across his skin.    
  
Broken, unfixable, and the only one he had.   
  
"No," he croaked, turning it on to test for further damage, "I  _ can't _ fix it."   
  
Loki was in front of him, his eyes searching Tony's face for whatever was bothering him so much. He knew his guard was down, and that he probably looked as vulnerable and miserable as he actually felt. Which would make Loki feel guilty and responsible even though the phone was really no big deal. It was the reminder that he was broken and unfixable as his stupid phone that made him feel like utter shit.   
  
"I am so sorry," Loki whispered, and Tony couldn't help but smile at his sincerity. The prince's hands were already touching his cheeks, neck, shoulders, anywhere and anyway to try to make Tony feel better. It was a habit they both picked up whenever one of them started to panic or get stressed. Just, touching. No hidden agenda, no sexy winks and all that. Just contact, pure and simple. The crazy thing was, it worked.   
  
"It's fine, Lokes. It's really just cracked, so I can still use it... for the most part." He paused and nuzzled into the hand cupping his cheek. "You know what I could really go for right now?"   
  
Loki shook his head, and shuffled closer, pressing right up against his body. It made Tony's chest ache something terrible, but he was good at hiding that already.   
  
"Mmh, I want  _ ice cream _ ."   
  
"Ice... cream? What, in the Nine Realms, is that?"   
  
Tony moaned loudly and closed his eyes, imaging a huge bowl full of coffee ice cream.   
"It's frozen milk and cream and sugar and, oh god,  _ chocolate _ ... so much chocolate." He made another mournful groan and opened his eyes to a very, very red faced Loki.   
  
"Oops," he said, grinning at him. "My bad, I get really excited over ice cream. I scream for ice cream."   
  
Loki took in a shuddering breath and flicked his eyes downward before jerking his body back.   
  
"I... erm..."   
  
Tony was about to laugh at his innocent reaction when he spotted the reason Loki was pulling away. The chuckle died in his throat, replaced by an appreciative grunt.   
  
"Sorry about that, I think," he half apologized, glancing back at Loki's face and making a point of not looking below the neck line. He wanted to, especially after he saw just how tight those pants were getting.   
  
"That is..." Loki let out a breath that sounded suspiciously like a pant, and continued, "it is perfectly alright. Simply...  _ unexpected _ ."   
  
Tony was moving forward without really thinking about what he was doing. He just wanted to be close, and maybe he really wanted to see just how big the prince really was. "I tend to do that."   
  
"W-what?"   
  
"Be," Tony pressed right up against him, "unexpected."   
  
He made an approximate size estimate, and let out another shuddering breath next to Loki's ear. Loki made a sort of strangled noise in the back of his throat in response and closed his eyes tightly. With a chuckle, Tony leaned away to look him over, enjoying how easy it was to effect the prince. Loki's eyes fluttered open again, his head tilting to the side with a look of confusion flashing across his face.   
  
"Don't worry, it's a perfectly normal reaction to all this hot stuff," Tony said, gesturing to himself. "I take it as a compliment."   
  
"Then... why do you move away?" Loki asked, taking a step closer.   
  
"Uh, I don't want to pressure you, or anything." Tony stepped back.   
  
"And if I want you to?" Loki whispered, taking another step closer. Apparently, the shy Loki from a minute ago was on vacation, the confident Prince Loki was home and knew exactly what he wanted. Tony swallowed a groan of desire and shuffled back a little, giving the prince an apologetic look.   
  
"I just don't want to hurt you, or scare you. I mean, of course I would love to do... to  _ do _ things with you—what are you—?!" Tony squawked and fell backwards as Loki pushed him over. Luckily, he had been backing him up to the bed, so he landed with a soft thump and looked up at him with surprise.

  
"Loki?"  
  
The prince was already crawling over him, leaning down to purr into his ear while his hands wandered their way up his sides, "Anthony, I am ready."  
  
"Oh..."  
  
 _Oh shit._  
  
Loki was doing something sexy with his tongue against Tony's neck, something hot with his hands, and his mind went completely blank. It wasn't until a few minutes, and a lot of groping later, did he realize he was making little, desperate whining noises every time Loki left a mark on his skin.  
  
"Shit, wait, _wait_..." He gasped, pushing Loki away with a gentle shove.  
  
Dammit, in all that glorious distraction, his collar had been unbuttoned and pulled open. He could only hope that none of the veins had reached up far enough for-  
  
"What is _that_?" Loki asked, his eyes shifting from the bruise he left above Tony's collarbone to something lower.  
  
 _Of fucking course._  
  
"I don't know, probably a hickey. From you, because no one else goes after my neck like a leech."  
  
Loki's eyes narrowed, and the spark of lust flickered and died. "That is not from me, it..." he trailed off, his eyes landing on the light of the reactor through his shirt. Tony swallowed nervously and tried his best not to burst out crying right then and there.  
  
This was not how he wanted him to find out, if he even _wanted_ him to find out. He wanted to enjoy the fact that Loki wanted him, he wanted to enjoy wanting Loki and for the first time being _allowed_ to actually touch him like that. But fate was a bitch, and Tony never got along with her anyway.  
  
"It's... my reactor," he said quietly, sitting up and undoing the rest of his buttons. He was hesitating to pull the shirt open, though, and Loki took charge with a quick pull.  
  
Black tendrils of poison crawled across his skin, radiating out from the very thing keeping him alive. Tony looked down at it, and for the first time he really registered how badly it looked. It looked gross and appropriately deadly.  
  
"Dear guðir," Loki breathed, his pale fingers hovering over the dark veins. "What _is_ this? This cannot be a sign of well being."  
  
  
"Yeah, about that..." Tony shifted nervously and took a deep breath before saying, "remember when I told you I was dying?"  
  
Loki's brow furrowed and one finger brushed against his skin enough to send a sharp quiver throughout Tony's body.  
  
"Yes," he answered, "you said you had years, but not as many as I."  
  
Tony met his eyes and tried to smile. Instead, his resolved cracked, and those tears that had been threatening to fall for nearly two weeks finally broke though.  
  
"It's more like a week, now, Lokes," he croaked, "I'll be dead in a _week_."  
  
Loki stared at him for so long, Tony forget he was sitting there crying and got lost in his dark, green eyes. It wasn't until the sounds of something breaking apart filled the room that he broke his gaze to see what it was.  
  
The room was already filled with ice, every surface covered with a thick, sheet of it. Spikes grew up from the floors and hung from the ceiling, crackling and breaking off when they got too large. But most noticeable of all, were the trails of ice crawling up the once pale skin, turning it blue and the eyes into an angry red.  
  
"Oh... _Loki_..."  
  
Loki screamed.  
  


* * *

  
_  
_ _ Today is the worst day of my life _ _  
_ ~~_ I have heard the most terrible news _ _  
_ _ I wish _ ~~ _  
  
_ _~~I now~~... I do not know what to do. _ _  
  
_ _ I had never seen him cry, before. There have been times when I have gone and cried to him, openly weeped in all my weakness. It was something I had never done before, either. Something, I think only comes from my uttermost trust in him. _ _  
  
_ _ But he cried, and he told me he was dying. _ _  
  
_ _ Anthony _ _  
_ _ My Anthony, my genius, my marked man. _ _  
  
_ _ In a week. _ _  
  
_ _ What can one do in a week? I never learned enough magic to be of any help, no thanks to my rotten father. The Fates give me a talent, and he saw fit to beat it out of me. I could have saved Anthony the day I found out about his chest metal. I could have healed him, I could have prevented all of this _ _  
  
_ _ But, what can I do in a week? _ _  
  
_ __ I fear I upset him with my reaction, and the fact that I am still in my Jotunn form can attest to that. He did not seem to wish to touch me, and even as he explained that he was worried of the effects of the poison with my body, I still felt that it was my fault. That I scared him too much with my sudden anger.Then again, perhaps it was my turn to scare him with a sudden outburst, something which would be ironically amusing if it hadn't sent him into one of those painful attacks that left him breathless and teary eyed.

 

_ It wasn't until I convinced him that I would be fine that he managed to come close to me again. Still, he would not change me back, and I could not bring myself to ask, as exhausted as he was.  _ _I should have realized how heavy a burden it had been already, hiding it from me while he was in great pain.  
  
_ _ Oh, the times I touched him, the times I made him run along the halls with me. How much have I involuntarily hurt him by my foolish actions? How can he not loath my very being by now? _ _  
  
_ _ But he doesn't. Once we both calmed down enough to speak again, we found we had no more words to say. So he simply curled up in my lap and stayed there for the rest of the night. I did not sleep, and I do not think he did either. In the morning, he left me to work on a solution and I finally came back to my rooms to write when he yelled at me for hovering. We have not touched nor spoken since last night.  _ _  
  
_ _ For once, I do not fear his anger. Perhaps it is because I know from where and why it comes, or because he is so dear to me. Or maybe it is because there is only one more week. _ _  
  
_ _ What can I  _ do _ in only a week? _ _  
_ _ Should I throw myself into the books, study like a madman in hopes of a cure? Should I stay around his workshop and offer any assistance I can there? _ _  
  
_ _ Or should I simply spend as much time as possible with the one I care so deeply for, the one I treasure... _ _  
  
_ _ The one I love. _ __  


* * *

  
  
Loki dropped his quill on the parchment, ignoring the wide drop of ink that spread after his final words.   
  
After that, what else was there to say?   
  
Loki stared down at the words he wrote without even thinking, and tried to remember to breathe. Why now, of all times, did he have to realize such a thing? When there was so limited time, and he had  _ so _ little to offer.   
  
With a shaking finger, he brushed the ink over those final words, smudging them out of existence. Now was not the time for this, today was one more day to count down in the week until his lover's demise. Today was a day he could spend trying to help Anthony. He could worry about his own emotions later, because if he didn't fix his fiancée now, there would be no point in these feelings.   
  
Loki lifted his hand and rubbed his two fingers together, staining his blue skin black with the ink.   
  
Anthony was out there, working as hard as he could to save himself, regardless of how weak and hopeless he felt.   
  
Loki stood up, rolled the parchment up, and went to find the one person he had ever seen use magic in Asgard. Maybe he could do something in just a week.    
  


 


	8. Ouroboros

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony has been struggling to find a cure for his, well, dying problem and Loki hasn't been around.

 

 

_Inagng I havn             Sho do_

  
  


After his tenth attempt at typing, Tony tossed the useless phone to the floor with a dissatisfied grunt. He needed a new one, but he doubted Fury would be able to provide one within the next day or so. He imagined they wouldn't be too happy about the whole dying thing, anyway.

  
  


What did they do for intergalactic relations when one of marrying partners died? Would they just replace him with someone else? Just hand Loki over to some other 'prince' and say, “Oh well, guess that’s over with.”

  
  


Tony's fingers froze over his phone as he bent to pick it up, before they curled into a fist.

  
  


That was _not_ okay, no matter what bullshit beliefs the Asgardians had. There was no way in hell Tony was letting Loki get tossed from one person to the next like a piece of meat. Loki was special, Loki was a god damn prince, not a tool.

  
  


Tony growled and left the phone where it was, falling back into his bed. Speaking of Loki, he hadn't seen him in two days. That was two out of the three days since he told him he was going to die, and today was his fourth to the last day before he ran out of supplies and died, if he was lucky.

  
  


He was _never_ lucky.

  
  


"Pull yourself together, Jesus. Just because he's not clinging to you in your last days doesn't mean you can slack off. He probably hates you for lying and leaving him blue and all that shit, anyway..." He trailed off, knowing _he_ was probably full of shit. Loki wasn’t very good at the whole ‘hating’ thing, unless it was about whoever abused him back on Jotunheim, which wasn’t nearly enough hate as he should have for them. Tony sighed, because he knew exactly how one tended to feel guilty, rather than angry, when someone abuses you. You blame yourself, you blame the alcohol, anything but the person hurting you, because that would mean they didn’t _love_ you.

Maybe Loki was pissed after all, because Tony lied to him. He knew if Loki did the same thing, he would be stupidly pissed, but... maybe that’s why he was avoiding him, even though he knew Tony only had a limited time left.

  
  


So that sucked, and now he only had a few days to figure it all out before he kicked it, meanwhile he was starting to lose more and more energy and kept waking up on the floor more often than his bed. It wasn’t like he was overworking, like he usually would, he was just… well, _dying_.

  
  


Tony hummed and ran a hand over his face, grimacing at how sticky and clammy his skin felt. He knew he looked bad, bruises that wouldn’t go away, dark circles, his tan skin unnaturally pale. Maybe it wasn't a bad thing that Loki was avoiding him, he didn’t even want to imagine look on Loki’s face if he saw him now.

  
  


Tony frowned and closed his eyes against the harsh light slanting through the window. No, it _was_ a bad thing. Loki was avoiding him, and he had four days left to live.

  
  


_Maybe I should make a will, something that states that Loki can’t be tossed around._

  
  


_With what? Your phone is busted._

_Yeah, but Loki probably has paper, right?_

  
  


Tony sat up again, ignoring the flecks of light dotting his vision as he launched himself out of bed and slid down the ladder. He was used to his equilibrium being off these days, and allowed himself a wide berth around any objects in his workshop as he moved through it. Trial and error and bruises were good teachers.

  
  


He did stop to pick something up, just a little something he made for Loki, before he left his shop and stumbled out through the small courtyard. Paper, a will, then back to work on saving his miserable life. It wasn't an excuse to see Loki, not really, because he actually did need paper and maybe some ink, and maybe a hug or three.

  
  


He was nearly smiling by the time he reached the ambulatory that curved around one of the great halls, the one he liked to use to avoid as many people as possible. Since he wasn't exactly anyone of importance here, it was better to keep his head low. Especially since that nasty shit with Fandral, which everyone seemed to think was his fault, was still fresh in everyone’s minds. Not that he particularly cared anymore, he was a little busy with the whole dying thing.

  
  


"STARK!"

  
  


Tony winced and almost didn't turn around at the sound of Thor’s voice echoing throughout the entire hall. No, probably the entire kingdom.

  
  


"Yeeesss?" He hissed, spinning on his heel just in time to put his arms up as Thor came to smack him on the back jovially. Regardless of Tony's obvious 'don't touch me' pose, Thor still managed to bruise his back with a couple of good hearty swacks to his spine.

  
  


"I have not seen you in some time, friend. I had hoped to be the one to bring you the news, but alas I am undoubtedly too late."

  
  


"Too late for what? What news?"

  
  


Thor furrowed his brow for a moment, until his face broke into a wide grin.

  
  


"Have you not heard, then?" He asked, leaning in close to whisper in his ear, "the Allfather has set a date for you wedding! In two weeks time, you and Loki shall be wed."

  
  


Whatever Tony had been expecting, that was no where even close. The wedding, the god damn wedding.

  
  


How the hell did he forget they were actually supposed to get _married_?

  
  


"Already?" he croaked, trying to match Thor's eager smile with his own.

  
  


"Is has been so long since you joined us on Asgard, and he has been pleased with the open relations that have already stemmed from your future union. Many peaceful talks between the realms have come to pass since Loki and you have arrived here."

  
  


Tony's voice dropped all its cheer instantly. "Peace talks, you mean diplomatic meetings? Weren't we supposed to, I don't know, lead those ourselves? Why the hell haven't I even heard of them?"

  
  


Thor looked confused and let go of his shoulder, tilting his head to the side like a puppy. "Why would you be present? They are meetings regarding the future of Jotunheim and Asgard."

  
  


"Which, I believe, Loki and I were supposed to represent. Isn't that why we are here?"

  
  


Thor's golden brows lowered, and the first hints of his thunderous temper started to show. "You are beacons to the Nine realms, that even those who have been to war for many years, may get along peacefully. It is not within your duties to attend such meetings."

  
  


Tony gritted his teeth and took another step back, his hand closing around the present in his pocket a little harder than he meant to. He could feel his heart rate rising, which was never a good thing, and  was a worse thing now. "You mean to tell me, i'm a god damn _trophy wife_? This is it, huh, this is our lives? Loki and I get stuck away in some room in the palace while you parade around spouting 'diplomacy' and 'peace'?! Where, Thor, where exactly is the peace? You brought me here to take your goddamn place so no pretty prince’s of Asgard had to marry the ‘monster’. We're just your game pieces, we don't actually _matter_ to any of you fucking Aesir."

  
  


Thor took a step forward, his teeth bared. "You will not—!"

  
  


"I HAD A _LIFE_!" Tony screamed over him, "I had friends, I had something to look forward to! I was Tony Fucking Stark, I _meant_ something on Earth. And you, you took that away from me. I'm nothing here, i'm a fucking pawn in your game, and you've made damn sure I played along. I..."

  
  


He was having trouble breathing now, each breath catching in his chest with a painful stab. He continued, on hand curling over the arc reactor uselessly, "I thought... I was helping you, and all you've done is take _everything_ away from me. I... If... on Earth... I wouldn't have to..." he gasped for breath, but no more would come. His eyes went wide, and for the first time Thor seemed to notice something was wrong and reached out for him.

  
  


" _Die_..." he breathed, and tumbled to his knees. The last thing he felt was large hands catching his shoulders, and a desperate voice calling out his name.

  
  


* * *

 

 

_I am drained, exhausted, weakened beyond all measure, but I must prevail. I must continue my work, for Anthony's time is running out._

  
  


_I went to the wonderful Lady Frigga the day after I discovered Anthony's illness. She has been kind to me, and most understanding when I revealed my current predicament. Unfortunately, as she explained to me, Anthony's health issues could not be simply wiped away by magic alone._

  
  


_His technology was not the same as that of Asgard, but had advanced in an entirely different direction. While I tried to explain the things I have learned from my Anthony, I did not have the language for it, and could not even produce the correct terminology for some of the items._

  
  


_Frigga and I came to a point where we needed to delve into research on Midgardian technology, rather than working with pure speculation. She suggested I start with magnetism, and discover more about the metals he used._

  
  


_I did visit him once, asking simple questions that should have been subtle. He seemed distracted enough not to notice my intent, and answered them all quickly and simply. It was awkward, to be honest. There was still a cloud hanging over us, and I fear that it will remain until this trauma has passed._

  
  


_If it simply passes, and Anthony does not pass instead._

  
  


_I am fearful that may just happen, for all the sleepless nights I have endured, and every scrap of information I have unearthed, nothing has proven helpful. I know I will truly loose him, and we will have spent the last days of his life apart._

  
  


_But, I must_

  
  
  


Shouting reached Loki's ears, causing him to stab his quill into the parchment accidentally. A large, black stain of ink spread across his final words, and he was reminded for a moment of those he blotted out the other day. He scowled down at the stain, remembering how easily the word ‘love’ simply slipped out.

  
  


The shouting started up again, distracting him from his self pity, and Loki stood from his desk to peer out the door.

  
  


"ASSIST ME!" came a familiar bellow, and Loki's curious frown grew more worried as he pushed out the door and hurried down the hall. There was more shouting, different voices joining in, and Loki heard a woman gasp loudly. He started to run, a heavy feeling growing in his chest as he drew closer.

  
  


It couldn't be, it _mustn't_ be.

  
  


He burst into the hall, sliding to a stop and looking around in a panic. There was some sort of a commotion at the far end, behind the pillars, and Loki started running again.

  
  


"Bring the healers, immediately, and someone call the Allfather!"

  
  


Loki paled as he drew closer and skidded to a stop next to Thor, who was alone now, standing yelling at a few servants to hurry.

  
  


"P-prince Thor?" Loki panted, feeling painfully awkward to be addressing the man on his own for the first time. "What has happened?"

  
  


Thor turned towards him slowly, as if afraid to look upon Loki. Loki nearly flinched away, remembering only now that he was in his true form, blue, hideous, and hated by the Aesir. Only, the expression he was faced with when the prince looked at him at last was a sort of deep sorrow, not disgust.

  
  


"Prince Loki... do you... has Stark appeared unwell as of late?"

  
  


A chill settled over Loki, a somewhat unfamiliar feeling to him. Nothing like this had ever happened before, those he had cared for had all betrayed him long before he could give his heart so fully like this. His body felt hollow, and his mouth refused to form the words he needed for an answer.

  
  


_Yes, he has been ill._

_Yes, he is dying._

_No, you cannot save him._

  
  


Loki swallowed the truth and asked innocently , "Has something happened with... A-Anthony?"

  
  


Thor nodded solemnly as he moved closer, and for once his heavy hands felt warm and almost comforting on Loki's shoulders. "We were... speaking, when he suddenly collapsed. My mother has taken him to the healers, but she asked me to speak with you immediately."

  
  


"I do not... I did not find a _way_ , yet," he whispered, keeping his head down. He pulled at his sleeves, eyes growing unfocused as his mind fell into a panic.

  
  


He had been too late, Anthony was leaving him days sooner than he had predicted. Anthony had explained it to him so well, how and when things would start to become difficult. What could have caused it to come so much earlier than he predicted?

  
  


Thor was asking, "What do you mean?" and Loki had to bite his lip to keep from spilling forth his lover's secret. It was not his to tell, and Anthony had wished to keep it between them, once Loki knew. His head turned further away, and just as he was about to excuse himself to go find Anthony, his eyes fixated on something laying on the floor by Thor's feet. The light struck it in such a way, that Loki nearly confused it for Anthony's shiny chest piece. As he twisted away from Thor’s grip to look, he realized what it was.

  
  


It was a knot, similar to the ones Loki made for his lover, but with far more detailed a weaving than he had ever made. Dozens of small colorful strands twisted together to form a gold and blue snowflake. It was beautiful, and left on the floor to be trampled on by rush of feet through the hall.

  
  


Loki pushed away from Thor without another word and knelt down, his hands pressing against the cold stone. He could not quite bring himself to touch such a beautiful thing. He was afraid that if he touched it, it would simply fall apart. Just like everything else he treasured, just as his own life fell to pieces.

  
  


"What is it?" Thor asked gently, his voice feeling far away.

  
  


Loki scooped it up suddenly, and stood, clutching the object to his chest. "It is mine, and I must return to my room immediately."

  
  


"Ah, but Stark is—"

  
  


"I know!" Loki snapped, brushing past the blond in the opposite direction from the healers.

  
  


"Prince Loki..."

  
  


"I _know_!" he screeched and bolted from the hall.

  
  


He just needed one more thing, one clue to solve the boundaries between Anthony's science and his magic. A connection, something that worked in spirit realm and physical.

  
  


Loki was running so fast and recklessly, it wasn't until he burst through his chamber's door that he realized he had bit his tongue at some point during his journey.

  
  


_Foolish, reckless._

  
  


He growled in irritation and wiped away the blood from his lips, placing the snowflake on his desk.

  
  


He hissed, pulling his hand back from the object immediately. A small bead of blood was already forming on his blue skin as he stared at it in confusion. Loki's eyes slid from his hand to the snowflake, and he leaned over it to inspect the weavings more closely.

  
  


What he had thought were ropes and ribbons were actually colored wires, spun and twined around one another in such intricate patterns Loki could not see where one ended and the other began.

  
  


It was so solid a form, the snowflake, yet broken into dozens of sections of color and designs. One wire had come lose, the culprit of his wound and undoubtedly product of being stepped on in the hall, and Loki pressed it back into the design.

  
  


His eyes widened as it slipped back in easily and disappeared into the rest of the wires instantly. Returning to the flow, reconnecting to the current.

  
  


"Oh... _oh_!" He pulled away from the desk with a shout, grabbing one of the first books he had read when he began his search.

  
  


"Branches of Yggdrasil... the snake and his tail... The river..." Loki muttered, flipping through the pages. Connections, that was everything the Nine realms were made of. Everything was connected, had its own place in the flow of the great tree, and of magic. Loki's hand stopped on the page he had been looking for.

  
  


Energy never died, but was transferred to another object.

  
  


_A river's current, the snake and it's tail, A circle._

  
  


"A ring of energy," Loki breathed, and snapped the book shut.

  
  


Anthony did not need a cure for the poisoning, he needed power from an alternate source. Something that did not poison him, something clean. Something _magical_.

  
  


Loki let out a slightly hysterical laugh, gathered the book and snowflake into his arms, and rushed off to find where they had taken Anthony.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	9. Beginning of the End

  
  
_I don't like the word 'love'. I've never liked it, even as a kid, even when my parents said it. Because they typically only said how much they loved me or one another when the cameras were running, when they flashed that publicity smile. I particularly hated it when one of those many women I was known for sleeping with said it to me, and I think I loathed it so much more simply because it was usually after we spent less than 24 fucking hours together._ _  
  
_ _So the problem I'm facing right now is:_ _  
  
_ _I just had an epiphany about 'love'._ _  
  
_ _I don't like it when is have epiphanies about anything human related. Actually, it's kind of weird, because I don't know where this—I guess I'll call it clarity—came from. It's like I just woke up, and everything's right of the surface of my mind. I feel like all the distractions and background noise have shut down for a while, and I don't really like that either. It's disconcerting._ _  
  
_ _So back to that epiphany._ _  
  
_ _It all started when I caught myself thinking things like, 'I love it when Loki does such-and-such.' Or, 'I love Loki's cold tongue in my mouth, a lot, like, a hella lot.'_ _  
  
_ _So I really got down to it—because a clear mind is a dangerous mind—and I cut away all the excess words. It boiled down to:_ _  
  
_ _'I love Loki.'_ _  
  
_ _Of course, I haven't told Loki about my new-found 'feelings' which I'm leaving in quotes because I don't want to put an official label on it yet. Sure, kissing him feels amazing, and hanging out with him is fun, and sleeping next to each other is nice too, plus he's brilliant, and his sarcasm could blow Fury's out of the water, also..._ _  
  
_ _Okay, so... so he's thoroughly integrated into my system, not going to lie. I don't think I could get him out of my mind even if I wanted to, and I don't, so he's stuck there like a bad memory you just can't shake and you keep thinking about. Or even better, he's like a tooth ache you keep poking at it with your tongue and it doesn't make it feel better, you just keep fucking poking at it. So he's a part of me, as cheesy as that sounds, he's in my head and for me that's more intimate than any sexual position._

 

 _But..._ _  
  
_ _Love happens to normal people, average Joe meets average—well in this case lets say Joe—and they fall in love under average circumstances. It's all very boring and simple and they make a family and go to work and for romance novels I guess they throw in vampires or some shit to make it exciting. But it's still the same old love story, people meet, do they have feelings, yes, time to kiss and make out, someone says 'I love you', there are tears, and coda._ _  
  
_ _I don't want that, for one thing, and for another thing, that's not even close to what I've got. There's nothing romantic about two people being shoved at one another by a huge bearded guy and his blonde son, and then told that we are saving the 'Nine realms' but left out of the loop to rot in... well, that's getting off topic. It was an arranged marriage, and just because one of us isn't a 13 year old girl from some rich oil tycoon of a father, doesn't mean it's not wrong._ _  
  
_ _Or that there's love._ _  
  
_ _Right?_ _  
  
_ _That's what it's supposed to be, and both of us made it pretty-fucking-clear that we would do our best to make it a comfortable enough marriage, but there was no promises about love._ _  
  
_ _Hah... Look, i'm talking like we're already married. See my problem? Integrated, seriously._ _  
  
_ _But I like him, I really do, and I think further down the line he might like me, too. Maybe Loki thinks 'I love this about him', which is undoubtably wishful thinking and I get Howard flashbacks of promises of never being loved because i'm so 'difficult' every time I start to think Loki likes me._ _  
  
_ _Still, I kind of look forward to it, watching things develop and grow, and hey, maybe Odin will let us adopt a puppy or something. If something doesn't stop us, first._ _  
  
_ _Is there something? Where the hell did that thought come from? That's the most damn pessimistic thing I've said, well, typed, in a while._ _  
  
_ _I feel like i'm forgetting something._ _  
  
_ _Fandral? Nah, he's a waste of time, and space, and air. Not exactly a high threat to Loki and I._ _  
  
_ _Well, whatever it is, it'll come back to me, probably at four in the morning. Thank god for solar chargers, and my own genius, otherwise I'd go insane without playing Angry Birds and writing down my stupid ass thoughts._ _  
  
_ _Speaking of thoughts,_ _  
_ _I kind of think of Loki as mine, and seriously, he_ **is** _mine. I've seen sides to him I doubt even his family has seen, not that that's some challenge since they're obviously abusive assholes. And, well, you know what they say about looking into the darkness, it looks back into you. Loki knows me better than... well, a lot of people. He gets that I can't change certain things, in a way Pepper never accepted. He doesn't even question it, even if it irritates him, and maybe that's not a healthy relationship, but I have this feeling in the back of my skull, that I would change for him if he actually asked._ _  
  
_ _So, maybe... in the end, i'm his too._ _  
  
_ _This is sounding a lot like Joe meet Joe, which means I think I love him. Which is so fucking scary I_ _  
  
_ _Wait._ _  
  
_ _Wasn't this phone broken?_ __  
  
  
The comfortable blankets and his huge bed, the warm sunlight glancing through the half-shuttered window, the smell of metal, and melted plastic, and grease, and the hint of spice that lingered around Tony's bed long after Loki left. All of it felt frozen, as though the world was holding its breath.  
  
And then it shattered, the scene before him breaking apart piece by piece. Crumbling until all that was left was darkness and the sound of wind.  
  


* * *

  
  
 _He was gone._ _  
  
  
_ _Anthony was out of my reach, even as I scrambled into the Room of Healing, and despite the way the room around me seemed to loose gravity, I clawed my way past the healers anyway. To my Anthony._ _  
  
_ _My Anthony who was gone._ _  
  
_ _There has been no moment in my life, not a second in some thousand years that has scared me_ _ **so**_ _much._ _  
  
_ _I was not prepared to see him like that, paler than ever, black lines of poison crawling up his neck. He was so still. Dead and cold and horribly_ _ **still**_ _._  
  
"No..."  
  
"Loki," the queen said by his shoulder, her voice hitched with tears, "it is too late. He has been gone for several moments now."  
  
"Several..."  
  
She nodded and looked at the body again, her eyes sliding over it as if she could not bare to let them linger there. "He was thrashing when I arrived, but went still before I could do anything..."  
  
 _I was too late. I failed him. I failed everyone again._  
  
Loki's knees threatened to buckle from under him, and the shaking of his hands nearly sent his precious tools to the floor. Clutching the book to his chest, he moved forward with clenched teeth. He _had_ to see, he had to know if it was true.  
  
"Anthony... Anthony, _please_ ," he whispered. The body before him did not move, or reply, or laugh at this grand joke.  
  
"Anthony, do not pretend... wake up," he murmured, placing the book down beside him and reaching out to touch his lover's cheek.  
  
"You can't leave me, you _promised_..."  
  
Anthony was cold under his fingers, and Loki pulled them away with a sharp gasp before screaming, "NO!"  
  
Tossing the book away, he began clawing at the device in Anthony's chest. Hands tried to pull him away, but the burn of his skin sent them reeling back with cries of pain. Some small, rational part of his brain remembered to twist the object out of the hole, rather than to continue clawing at the flesh around it. Loki removed it with a desperate keening sound.  
  
Once in hand, he noticed the wires trailing from the back into the man's chest. Into a mess of black and blood and the smell of cooked meat filled the air. Loki could not help but gag on it, but wild determination kept him going. He yanked the device free of its moorings and it too joined the book on the floor.  
  
Someone was crying, begging him to stop, to leave the body so it may be returned to Midgard. Loki did not heed them, and if anything, the thought of letting them take his lover away fueled him further.  
  
So, he pulled out the snowflake, its twists of metal shining brightly in the light, and began to destroy it without any sense of guilt. If it did not save Anthony, what did he need with some trinket that would only remind him of the man? Nothing, Loki would need _nothing_.  
  
The wires cut at his fingers and hands, and he continued regardless, unraveling it all and twisting it back together again. A circle. A never ending string of information and power, conducted through the metal, it would work. It _would_ work.  
  
It couldn't be too late.  
  
Loki tried to clear the blood away from the crevasse in Anthony's chest, but there was too much and it was easier to simply freeze it and pull it out. More gasps and cries from around him, more pleas for him to stop. He snarled at any who tried to pull the body away, and as he finished up the circlet, he realized the room was slowly emptying.  
  
"Loki... we leave him to you," someone whispered, and he was alone again. Alone with Anthony, as it always was, as it should be. Only, this time he was going to help the man, rather than be helped.  
  
His fingers shook as he pushed the last few wires into place, and focused fully on the object. It was easy enough to push his magic into the metal, to weave the wires together even tighter. But it wasn't enough, his power was not enough.  
  
So, he forced all the panicked thoughts away, and bit back the scream that had threatened to escape him since he first laid eyes on Anthony. With no more distractions, Loki looked to the core of his being, the heartbeat that pulsed in time with the magic of the universe. He could feel it calling from the branches of Yggdrasil, and he called back to it.  
  
 _Please._ _  
_ _Please help me with this, just this. I have never asked for anything before, and I shall never ask again._ _  
  
_ _Give me this one thing._ _  
_ _Give me Anthony._  
  
His heart began to sink when no burst of energy flowed through him. There was no bright light, or change, and the heartbeat never skipped a beat.  
  
"No... no! I did it correctly... I did everything right!" He screamed and opened his eyes, fumbling to shove the circle of wires into the hole in his lover's chest. The circle covered with his blood, filled with his magic, and it wasn't _enough_.  
  
He pushed himself harder, drawing everything and anything from inside of him into that one object. His knees did give out then, and Loki sagged against the table, clutching to the edge desperately to keep in contact with the circlet.  
  
 _More._ _  
  
_ _More, more, more!_  
  
Something snapped within him, and a rush of blood poured from his nose. With a frustrated grunt, Loki let go of the table to wipe it away and continued to push everything he had into the object.  
  
There was a hum in the air, or in his ears, and he felt the first few skips in the heartbeat. He didn't even notice when his fingers began to burn, or that the hum was getting louder.  
  
 _More. More, more more!_ _  
_ _Save him!_ _  
_ _I can't—!_  
  
' _He is safe_ ,' a voice whispered and the heartbeat stopped.

 

With a smile, Loki finally let go and collapsed to the floor as the room filled with the powerful sounds of life.  
  
  
  



	10. All Clear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where all good things remain unchanging, always and forever more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Not edited, sorry! More notes at end]

 

 

_I guess I should start out by letting you know that i'm alive._

_I'm alive!_

_Surprise, surprise. I guess this letter is kind of a dead giveaway, and yes, Pepper, I do remember how to use a pen and paper. Although, Loki tried to offer me his quill, and wasn't that an interesting half hour of fowl play. Get it?_

_Anyway, I digress, as usual._

_I'm alive! I repeat, from my bed that I've been stuck in for weeks. Not that i'm complaining, because i'm not. It's the good kind of stuck, the kind that includes someone else and a lot of exercise. ;)_

_I should continue from where I left off on my phone._

_Which was_

_Fuck that, I can't remember where that was, so I'll start with waking up and not being dead._

_Yeah, here's the story..._

 

Tony woke up to a world of pain and darkness, and hushed voice. The sounds, alone, were giving him a headache, but there was also that thriving inside of his skull that made him want to scream. He tried telling them to shut up, or maybe 'fix me', but he's pretty sure nothing actually came out of his mouth. The throbbing continued, as did the voices, and the light grew stronger. It was a relief, considering Tony was well aware that his eyes had been open for several minutes, and they had seen nothing but black, and blindness is very, very not allowed.

 

"Wassghh?" He managed, and wow, a sound, impressive.

 

"Stark, please hold still, we need to—"

 

"—he's not responding to our spells, my lady, perhaps we should—"

 

"—bandage your chest. Can you breathe?" 

 

Tony frowned, trying to tune out one conversation for the other.  _Who_  wasn't responding to spells? Clearly he was fine, even if he couldn't see much more than blurry blobs, so who else was here? In fact,  _where_  was here?

 

"... Bring the Norn stones, and—"

 

"Sir Stark, can you hear me?"

 

"Unfortunately," Tony snapped, and he was  _so_  proud that his first words back were as bitter and sarcastic as usual. He could only wonder what his future children's first words would be like.

 

_Right, children. Marrying a man means that's not happening, even if you want it to._

_Marrying a man._

_Loki._

 

"Where's Loki?" He croaked, yanking himself up from the bed. The blob to his left let out a startled grunt, shoved him back down, and continued to do something around his chest area. A spike on panic grew in his chest, probably from both where they were sticking their hands and the lack of answers about Loki. 

 

"Where is he?!" He demanded, trying to push the blob away. More hands began to push him around, holding him against the table, and pressing vials to his lips. Tony struggled against it all, until whatever was in that vial kicked in and he felt himself go weak.

 

"Sir Loki is healing, Stark."

 

"Please lay still."

 

"It keeps burning," someone else whispered, and they're right, something  _was_  burning, his chest.

 

Tony squirmed and tried to get away from it, but it kept on burning. 

 

"Make it... Stop!" He gasped, forcing his way into a sitting position. A burning circlet of light tumbled out of his chest, and seconds later Tony's heart went into overdrive. So, he grabbed at the thing in confusion, and as soon as his hand closed around it, he felt the heat.

 

"What the fuck?!"

 

One of the blobs grabbed at his shoulder, their voice oddly low, "Son of Stark, please—"

 

Tony pushed the round loop of whatever back into his chest and hissed in pain as it pulled off half the skin on the palm of his hand. A perfect circle of red, melty skin, and holy shit did that  _hurt_. Tony squinted his eyes at it, and then decided that if it hurt this badly without seeing it up close, he was probably better off not knowing. 

 

A slightly more pressing issue was, what the fuck was that thing in his chest right now, and why was it bouncing around in there like a loose bolt? Staring at it, only half awake—or half alive—he was struck with a strange feeling of familiarity. It looked a lot like... something. 

 

"Stark, please lay back so we can bandage your chest."

 

Tony glanced up at the person to his left, frowning as they came into focus a little more.

 

"I don't think that's going to work," he replied with a scowl. "Pretty sure you guys have already burned off all my chest hair." 

 

"Sir—"

 

"Let him be," someone spoke from across the room. Tony turned and squinted at a new group of colors that might have been people. What was that blue thing on top of the—

 

"Loki?!" 

 

Jumping out of bed with his already burned hand placed over the cavity in his chest, Tony stumbled and sways his way over to the second table. His knees sagged as he reached it, and luckily for him, someone caught him before he collapsed to the floor.

 

"Who's that?" He wheezed at the figure, vaguely aware of the tingle of magic crawling under his skin. Strong arms eased him down into a chair by the table, and Tony automatically reached out he free hand to curl around Loki's blue fingers.

 

The person in question moved around to the other side of the table, now too lit up by the lights for Tony to catch even the faintest hint of recognizable features. "I am Lady Frigga, Anthony." 

 

"Oh... sorry. I can't—"

 

"See very very well?" She finished for him, sounding slightly bemused. "Perhaps due to the fact that your body was quite dead only moments ago. I am a bit surprised you are able to move about at all."

 

"Dead dead? Like flat line dead? How am I even..." He trailed off and rubbed at his eyes uselessly. "How long, and what's wrong with Lokes?" 

 

Frigga leaned over Loki to mumble powerful sounding words that could almost be Latin. Another weird sense of familiarity struck Tony, but he was too exhausted to examine it any further. Only after she finished, whatever that was, did she answer.

 

"I was not present for the entirety of your death, since I was called too late, but you had past beyond for quite some time. I believe your body had ceased functioning for much longer than that. As for your soon-to-be, I fear I am unable to determine the cause of his state, thus far." 

 

"What  _is_  his state, exactly?" He asked, deciding to worry about permanent blindness and brain damage later. Loki was more important. Loki was always more important. 

 

"Still as death, but breathing. He also seems to be missing... The heat of life. I feel no warmth nor cold from him. Worst still, I feel no source for his energy." 

 

"He's always cold," Tony muttered, giving the hand under his a slow squeeze. She was right, though, he just sort of felt... room temperature. "Wait, don't you guys all have 'cores'? Loki talked about his once, You can't just  _lose_  that, it's a part of you." 

 

"Have you never lost something that was a part of you, Stark?" 

 

He was to going to answer that, not for a million dollars. So, to avoid her gaze, Tony squinted down at his lover and tried to figure out what was missing. Loki looked pale for someone who was usually a nice, dusty blue. Even more disturbing was his mouth and the strange color around it that Tony had to lean in closer to inspect. 

 

"What is this?" He wondered quietly, tracing a finger along the lips. The sensation of his overly warm skin against Loki's unresponsive lips sent a shiver of dread through his body. It felt so  _wrong_. It felt so bad he was starting to really worry about this—scratch that, he was full on _terrified_  as hell, now. "He... how can he lose his core? What happened?" 

 

"Your death was something he could not accept, something, I might add, we share an opinion on. But he... he refused to allow it to happen, even if it meant his life was forfeit." 

 

Tonys heart thudded painfully against his new burnt chest piece and his poor, probably bleeding hand. "No," he breathed. "No, no, no. He _can't_  do this to me, he can't save my life and then just leave me here alone!" 

 

"I do not think it was such a simple choice for him. Anthony, please understand—"

 

"It  _is_  simple," he insisted, reaching up to brush away a few stay hairs from Loki's face. "It's really easy to make that choice when you... when you care about someone. It's easy, trust me."

 

Frigga remained silent for some time, long enough for Tony's body to grow numb, regardless of the aches and burns littering his body. His kind simply could not focus, pain was trivial at this point.

 

 

Frigga interrupted his miserable thoughts about loki with a soothing voice, "I will need to consult some scrolls about this, but I think I may be able to save him. It is very rare for one to lose their core, even more so in the manner of which he lost it." 

 

"This thing in my chest?" 

 

"Indeed," she confirmed, brushing her delicate fingers across Loki's brow in an affectionate manner. "I will not have ether of you die today. Please stay with him until I return." 

 

"I'm not going anywhere."

 

Frigga studied him for a moment, before her eyes slid down to his chest and she exclaimed a soft, "oh!"

 

Tony glanced down in confusion, and nearly gagged at the sight. He wasn't wrong about being able to see it, before. With a pained whimper, Tony leaned back in his chair and tried to pull his hand away.

 

"Wait," Frigga instructed, hurrying around the table to place a hand on the back of his. Tony cried out in pain and automatically tried to move away, his body twitching against his will. 

 

"Hold still and I can help." 

 

"Can you stop touching—"

 

"If you would please—"

 

"—you're making it—" Tony broke off with an undignified squawk and held his breath as the skin of his palm began to knit together right before his eyes. She was doing something, the same kind of muttering under her breath that he watched her do over Loki. 

 

  
_Magic_ , his mind provided uselessly, and he should really be getting used to it by now. 

 

"A scar will remain," she spoke suddenly, pulling Tony out of his 'how is this my life?' Musings just in time to see a dusting of blue light fade from his hand. She was right, there was a scar, an angry red circle that reminded Tony of his repulsers.

 

"That's fine—more than fine—thank you." 

 

"It is still healing," she said, letting go of his hand with a gentle touch to his wrist. "I would tell you to avoid using it, but I believe we both know how well you listen to such advice." 

 

Tony snorted and cupped his hand to his chest, just barely brushing over the open cavity filled with the burning whatever-that-was. She rewarded him with a small smile, eyes following his hand to his bare chest.

 

"Do you have some sort of metal or glass to cover that?" She asked, gesturing to the light glowing through his fingers. "I do not think flesh or cloth should come near it again."

 

"Not on me, so i'll have to be careful until I get to my shop." 

 

She frowned i'm response and looked around the room, waving at a blob-person that was still out of range of Tony's fuzzy eye site. They exchanged words, Tony went back to looking at Loki, and the blob left. 

 

Loki was looking... bad, worse, if possible. Obviously one was not meant to lose their magic core thing if one is a magic core sort of person. Tony wondered for a split second if he had a magic core, then dismissed it in an internal fit of, 'you're fucking human and a scientist to boot.' 

 

Which, in the end, lead to a great heaping pile of depression and self hatred. If he  _wasn't_  a scientist, if he did have some powers of the magic persuasion, maybe he could help Loki. As it was, all he could do is sit here holding his hand while holding, what appeared to be the end of Loki's magic, inside his chest.

 

"Stark..."

 

"You can call me Tony," he muttered distractedly. "Or Anthony, if that's more Asgardian." 

 

"Anthony, this was not your fault," 

 

He looked up, an argument already on his lips, and paused at the severity and pure honesty on Frigga's face. She wasn't messing around, she meant business and who was he to argue with the queen? 

 

For some ungodly reason, that made him laugh out loud, and all the severity in her face softened.

 

"Alright," Tony agreed, squeezing Loki's hand a little harder. "Alright, I'll try not to take the blame for this, but I can't promise you anything. Especially not when Loki's... like this." 

 

He cleared his throat and hoped the sound covered up the way his voice cracked. 

 

"Lady Frigga," a woman said, finally coming close enough for him to distinguish her from the shadows. "I brought what you requested." 

 

Frigga thanked her and brought what looked like chicken wire over to him. Tony looked down at the stuff in her hands, back up at her, and then grunted in confusion.

 

"For the device," she prompted, pressing it into his hand.

 

"Oh, right, okay." 

 

Regretfully letting go of Loki's hand, he shaped presses the metal wire frame to the arc reactor's casing, and started to curl the edges around it to keep it in place. It was a lot more intricate than he first though, and as malleable as it was, once he pressed it into shape, it stayed.

 

"Huh. Magic chicken wire." 

 

Frigga let out a huff of laughter, eyeing him over Loki's still form. "It is elven, costly, and quite rare." 

 

" _Expensive_  magic chicken wire," Tony amended, looking up with a small grin. "Thanks. Again." 

 

Instead of acknowledging his joke, she looked down at loki and muttered ,"Do not thank me, yet."

 

"I will not have ether of you die today," she spoke more firmly, pulling herself away from the table and out of Tony's line of sight. "Please stay with him until I return." 

 

Tony nodded grimly, half of him screaming to help loki, to do something, and the other telling him to shut up and let the professionals handle it.

 

Alone, mostly, with his thoughts, he started to get antsy. It was uncomfortable in there, for about a dozen reasons, but the thing that pushed it to unbearable was the silence. So, Tony started talking, because that's what tiny did best. Well, other than, you know, inventing awesome things.

 

"You know what?" He began, curling his fingers through Loki's own. "We're going to get married soon, or, at least, they want us to get married soon. Personally, I think it's too soon, like, actually getting married and not forced-engaged, anyway. I think I've probably learned a lot about you already, but I feel like we've barely a scratched the surface after, what, less than a year? It doesn't help that you're one deep pit of secrets. But, even without you telling me, I  _know_  some horrible things happened to you back home, some horrible things happened to me, too."

 

 He paused, his mind going back over the events before his departure to Asgard. It still felt raw to him, even after all this time. The betrayal, the deaths, the guilt. It weighed on him every day, no matter how far away from Earth he was. He was still the Merchant of Death, he was still a murderer. 

 

 

'Blood on your hands', someone once said, 'even if your finger isn't on the trigger.' 

 

_Loki's blood is on my hands._

 

"Yeah," he rasped, glancing away from Loki's face. "So, maybe I should actually open up to you, so you know it's okay to talk about shit too. I can probably manage to tell you about my life, whatever there was of it before we met. You should probably know about my father, or Obi, maybe Pepper. Er... I don't know if that's a good idea, but, then again, she was sort of the first person I felt  _okay_  around other than you. Not really myself, I mean, I'm always myself to an extent, but when I was around her I always tried to be better than myself. Tried to be good."

 

"'Good' meaning less offensive—don't laugh—and more caring. She inspired me to try a little harder at that thing called human interaction, and honestly, I wouldn't even be here right now if it wasn't for her." He paused, squeezing Loki's limp hand as he waited and wished for some sort of reaction. He didn't know what the point was, but he felt like this was what he was supposed to do. 

 

"I... I guess you could say Pepper was the first person I loved. Not that we were a thing, there was a chance for it at one point, but then Thor showed up and you know the rest." He made a face, remembering Loki's attitude when they first met. No, it really wasn't 'love at first sight'.

 

"Its going to sound selfish—no, it  _is_  selfish—but I'm glad I'm here instead of home with all of them. I loved them, Rodney, Pepper, hell, even Happy had a special place in my heart. But all this—" he gestured to the room at large, colors and lights still swirling above Loki's table. 

 

"All of this, Loki, has shown me how small my world really was. I could fly, so what? According to you, there's fucking space dragons out there somewhere. I created the single most powerful, self-sustaining, clean energy source on Earth that, albeit, was poisoning me, and you  _fixed_  it, you made it better. Which, remind me again, how the hell did you did that—when you're actually awake and listening." 

 

"I am awake," croaked a weak voice. "Tis hard... to ignore... your babbling." 

 

Tony nearly threw himself backwards off the stool, because unbroken silent for over an hour makes you twitchy. That's totally why. 

 

Loki?, jesus, you're awake." 

 

"Stating the... obvious," Loki muttered, his eyes still not open, but a faint hint of a smile playing across his lips. "I am... glad you are alive."

 

"I could say the same for you, but I'm kind of more worried that your core is missing. Apparently it's missing, not that I can tell." 

 

"You could... even you should be able to... feel it." 

 

Tony's heart thudded painfully against his chest, because he  _could_. He knew loki felt different, but he had been trying to. 

 

Instead of answering that, Tony reached out to caress Loki's cheek. 

 

"You—" Tony cleared his throat, "you're going to be okay, right?"

 

Loki finally opened his eyes and looked around blearily until finally settling on Tony. His faint smile grew wider as he replied, "I know not, it's not... as though I have lost my... magic's core before."

 

"Don't you sass me, give me an estimate, percentages, anything. I'm going to have a fucking heart attack here and no amount of magic circle voodoo is going to bring me back this time. Give me  _something..._  please." 

 

Loki tipped his head a little more, and stared as he seemed to focus on the hand Tony was brushing against his face. "You are... harmed? What happened?" 

 

Tony let out a growl of irritation and snatched his hand back. "I grabbed the circle thing like an idiot. Don't avoid my fucking question!" 

 

Loki flinched away from him, and regret pooled in Tony's stomach almost instantly. "Oh shit, hey, I'm sorry! I'm not mad at you, god no. I'm just—"

 

"It's alright," Loki interrupted softly, his eyes still wide but his voice steady. "I understand how you are feeling. I felt very much the same looking down at you before. Only... you we're already gone." 

 

"'Already' gone? What does that mean, though? Are you implying that  _you're_  going to die? How do you know this? Percentages, estimate, hypothesis." 

 

"I don't  _know_ , Anthony." 

 

"I do."

 

Tony jerked is head up to see lady Frigga returning, her mood considerably lighter than when she left. 

 

 

"Please share with the class, I'm mid-break down here," Tony said, tightening his grip on Loki's hand while he tucked the burnt one out of Loki's sight.

 

Frigga returned to her spot on the other side of Loki's bed and took a moment to run her hand through the prince's hair, startling him by her touch. She simply smiled at him and leaned back to hold up a dusty, red book. "I believe I have the solution here, if you are willing to undertake such a task." 

 

"I'll undertake anything if it helps him." 

 

"You will need to work with my son, Thor."

 

"Okay, maybe not 'anything.'" 

 

"Anthony," she chided, giving him an exasperated look.

 

Tony put a hand up in defeat. "I'm joking, I'm joking. What is this task I must preform with your son, your majesty?" 

 

"You will need to perform a bonding spell." 

 

"With... Thor?" 

 

Loki let out a small unhappy sound at this, and tried to sit up.

 

"No!" Frigga gasped, gently pushing loki back down. "Calm yourself. Oh goodness, no, not with Thor. With Loki, of course." 

 

 

Tony gave his lover a reassuring smile and hand squeeze and looked back up at the queen. He didn't want to assume, but 'bond' sounded an awful lot like—

 

"Marriage," Loki rasped, eyes trained on Frigga.

 

"Yes, with the more traditional blood bonds, your core should return to your body and heal itself over time." 

 

"Wait, so we have to get married... today?"

 

"If you wish to save his life," Frigga stated simply. "Yes."

 

Swallowing his childish argument of, 'it's too soon,' Tony looked over at Loki and saw a similar fear in his red eyes. 

 

It was too soon, the entire thing was too soon. But it was an arrange marriage after all, so timing wasn't exactly on anyone's mine and he really  _did_  like Loki. 

 

He  _loved_  Loki. 

 

He grinned and was relieved to see that fear ebb away. 

 

 "Well honey, looks like you and me are getting a Vegas style wedding." 

 

* * *

 

  
_I cannot even begin to say how happy I was to wake to the sound of Anthony's voice. I was told, by some unseen force, that his heart still beat, but his chattering in my ear was the proof I needed to calm my heart._ _However, there was a new and pressing issue. I could feel my loss as soon as my senses returned to me._   


_There is nothing quite like a core, it is who you are, what you are, what you can be. My core was unique, as is any other's, and quite possibly the only unchanging aspect of my life thus far. Something I could rely on when the words and deeds of men failed me._

_So to lose that, that precious, warm light, was the most tragic thing I have ever experienced._

_All of my protection, every language learned, every drop of fire in my blood, gone. Spell upon spell broken, leaving dusty, old remnants littering my mind. A mother's warning, cast when I was just small child to keep me from wiggling about in my chair too much. My only remnant of her, a spell with no memory attached._

_There was more, so much more than I ever realized._

_A spell to calm the stomach, so old and dampened down that all that was left was a soft reminder, a smudge of gray. Then there were the newer ones, ones that covered a scar from sight, ones that kept me cool in the Asgardian heat, a tracking spell, a promise._

_All gone and shattered, and messy._

  
_But... There was a warmth there, even in the darkness that claimed me._ _It never faded, no matter how much disconnect I was suffering, and it stayed with me even as I awoke to worried, brown eyes, rough fingers against my cheek, and a very agitated husband-to-be._   


_And there he was, pale and pained, to be sure, but alive. Alive and well and worried for me._

_If not for the Lady Frigga joining us, I may have blurted out things best left unsaid. A deathbed is no place for vows of love. For what better way to drive the knife of sorrow in more deeply, than to remind them of what they have so fleetingly, and shall never have again?_

_The lady Frigga, however, brought good tidings, marriage and a blood bond. It is not unfamiliar to me, as my people still believe in the old ways and, for all their cruelty to me, a depth of love most could never understand._

_To bond was to live, eat, sleep, breathe your partner—no—they become more than that. You are their breath, you are theirs. It is a powerful connection, and indeed, the perfect way to return my core to me._

_But_

_For just a moment, I saw Anthony hesitate. Or perhaps it was the hitch in his breath before he spoke that held a whisper of doubt. Not that I could lay any blame upon him, to be married so soon, and to me._

_I had scars he had yet to see. Perhaps some still bleeding wounds we still have yet to uncover._

_Ah, but there is time for that yet, because_

  
_"_ We're getting married," Anthony muttered, more to himself than anyone else. 

 

Loki rolled his eyes, for what felt like the thousandth time, and leaned back in the uncomfortable chair they had propped him up in. The journey from the healing room was one Loki would like to forget while he carefully fit the prices of his shattered dignity back together. 

 

Thor's voice helped remind him that, "Yes, you are to be wed!" 

 

"Could we please dispense with the shouting?" 

 

"Yeah," Tony agreed, looking as disheveled as loki felt. "Actually, my head is killing me."

 

Thor simply muttered an apology and went to hover in the far side of his mother while she prepared things for the ritual.

 

Loki scowled, because everything was too loud, too bright, and too hot. The heat was due to Anthony covering him with blankets to such an excessive amount, they ended up having a bit of a tiff about it. Frigga had snorted rather ungracefully at them and left to go find her son who, apparently, was needed for the ceremony. Which brought them to now, with Anthony standing next to his chair, foot tapping in an annoying manner while the queen started pouring things into bowls and muttering. 

 

Several times in the past few minutes, Loki had caught the mortal attempting to cross his arms over his chest before wincing and letting them fall back to his sides again. Clearly he was still in pain, all the more reason to get the ceremony completed. 

 

"Loki, do you know the proper words?" Frigga asked over her shoulder. 

 

Loki hesitated, not willing to part with the truth of his shattered memories. They needn't know.

 

"I... I'm afraid I never learned them," he lied, knowing he did at some point, but could no longer remember when or where or why. 

 

"Ah, well then, Thor, if you please?" 

 

Thor nodded, flashing Anthony a pained smile that was greeted with a sharp, but tired glare.

 

_What could possibly have angered Anthony to such an extent?_

Loki frowned, remembering the scene he had found when this all started. Thor and Anthony together before he died. He hadn't spared it a thought at the time, but clearly something had happened. Anthony had told him he had days more before he was in any real danger. 

 

Loki leveled his gaze on thor, watching for any hints of his transgressions as he accepted a book from Frigga and read over the page quickly before approaching them. 

 

"It says to clasp your hands together, face one another..." Thor trailed off as he squinted at the text. "Then you shall say, 'til hvers sálir okkar. með orðum sem við binda. Mitt er þitt. og þitt er mitt." 

 

From his right, Anthony muttered, "What...?"

 

"To each our souls

With words we bind...

Mine is yours 

And yours is mine," Loki translated easily, his cheeks tinting almost purple as he spoke. It was a rather overly romantic phrasing. Appropriate for the task, but still a tad—

 

"Oh  _god_ ," Anthony groaned, rubbing his hands down his face and revealing flushed cheeks of his own. A small seed of panic took root in Loki's stomach, and he quickly stuffed down the bitter ache that came with it.

 

"If you don't wish to do it, I understand completely, it is—"

 

"Shh, stop. Stop right there. I'm doing it, it's fine, more than fine. A little... cheesy, but it's all good."  

 

"It may be... a bit childish for what it is, but I must remind you that this bond is more than marriage," Frigga interjected, coming over and gently pulling Anthony around to face Loki. "You will be forever connected to one another and nothing can break this bond. That is why it is not so commonly used  here in Asgard anymore. Our people have become more..."

 

"Fickle?" Anthony suggested.

 

"Nomadic?" Loki offered, earning a grin from his lover.

 

"Sexual deviants?" 

 

"Clean shaven?" 

 

"Hah!" Anthony barked, "Not me." 

 

"Enough from you two, you understand the concept." She added sharply, "I  _hope_." 

 

Anthony simply laughed as he reached his chair, grabbed Loki's hands, and drew him up to stand on wobbly legs.

 

"Well then, my handsome better half," he smirked, "ready to accept your new human battery?" 

 

"My what?" 

 

"Do I have to chant this thing in old-person tongue?" Anthony asked over his shoulder to Frigga, who simply gave him such a look, it had him turning away with a small grimace. As he focused on Loki once more, the groaned tipped up into a warm smile, and for a moment, Loki got lost.

 

Lost in the way Anthony's hair flopped over his forehead, having grown out longer—he claimed—than it had been in years. He saw the lines around those bright eyes that came from smiling and the lines around his lips that came from frowning. 

 

This man had lived a lifetime without him, struggled through things Loki could not imagine or understand. He hadn't needed Loki then, he didn't need loki now. 

 

  
_Oh, but he wants me_ , Loki thought, staring into those now worried eyes. It had always been him, only him, who wanted Loki, and who Loki wanted most.

 

"Yes," he answered, perhaps too late, and squeezed Stark's hands in reassurance. 

 

"Okay... okay," Anthony breathed. "Then I'll start... To each our souls

With words we bind..."

 

"Mine is yours 

And yours is m-mine," Loki gasped, and a different kind of magic began to prickle in his fingertips. It burned with unfamiliarity as it crawled up his arms, seeming to struggle its way to Loki's body. 

 

"I feel you," Loki whispered,  leaning closer to rest his forehead against his lover's own. 

 

"I feel you, too, and not in just the physical 'i'm practically stuck to you' kind of way." 

 

"Only you could turn a spiritual moment into an innuendo." Loki huffed with laughter and closed his eyes, allowing the new warmth to wash over him.

 

"Hey, not my intention, n—ah!" 

 

Loki's eyes snapped open,only to be blinded by a bright glow from between them. It wasn't painful, indeed, Stark seemed only surprised, not pained. 

 

"This is... beautiful." 

 

"This is your bond," came Frigga's voice from somewhere beyond the glow. "This may be the only time you will lay eyes on it. Look well, remember this moment, for you are now and forever, one." 

 

A breath, short and awed, drew Loki's eyes up and away from the beauty of their bond, to find his lover staring at him. His lips parted in a wide smile, and Loki, not caring about the audience, cupped Anthony's face in his hands, and kissed him.

 

"Mine," he whispers against those smiling lips.

 

"Yours," was whispered back.

 

The glow between them dimmed, fading away as quickly as it had come. But even as the last particle of light blinked out between them, Loki continued to gaze right ahead.

 

Right at the light of his life.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Pepper Potts was sitting in her office with a small pile of paper work that had thankfully made its way into the 'out' box, rather than accumulating across her desk. This meant she could enjoy a small lunch break, which something she had been looking forward to for the last few hours of non-stop work. She couldn't leave the company for lunch most of the time, considering the time it took to travel there, order, eat, and travel back. Multitasking was simply how she lived, it came with the job. 

 

So, fork in one hand, a letter opener in the other, Director Potts began her lunch hour. After sorting through several packets and a dozen letters, she noticed a strangely decorative box, taped up and sealed with the SHIELD name and logo. 

 

"Looks like they sorted their name out at last," she muttered, smiling to herself. Coulson had been the only one kind enough to let her know when there were any updates on Tony's status. Such things as the scare a few months ago when, according to Coulson, Tony and his husband had fallen simply off the map. It was a long week later when he came back, looking hassled and a bit amused, to tell her that Tony Stark was kind of a jerk, but he was fine. 

 

Intrigued, Pepper placed her fork down and managed to slice open the seal holding the lid firmly closed. She took a moment to marvel at the wood and metal work before popping it open at last. Directly on top were three envelopes, all sealed with red wax and tucked in nicely with a pile of leather bound books. Her brows drew together when she saw Tony's name scrawled across one in his painfully familiar penmanship. 

 

It couldn't possibly be from him, they hadn't allowed direct contact since he left. She was lucky that anyone told her anything at all, Coulson had told her.

 

But there it was, Tony's scrawl on a letter stuffed inside a mysterious box of books.

 

With shaking hands, she lifted all three envelopes out and studied them. The first was light and smaller than the other two, with no label on it whatsoever. The other had such beautiful script, she found herself tracing the letters of the name with a finger. After a short minute of deliberation, she decided to save Tony's letter for last, and sliced open the letter marked 'from: Loki' 

 

 

_Dear Miss Potts,_

_My name is Loki and I am married to your once-close friend, Anthony Stark. I do not know how much you have been told of our situation over the few years, and so I have provided my private accounts of the events since we both arrived on Asgard. I give these to you, for one, because Anthony is a stubborn child at times and would not accept anything but my full cooperation, and also because I, too, hope for someone to know and remember these moments when we, who have lived them, are gone._

_He has talked to me of you at great length, of his love for you and the friendship you shared before he left. So, it is with a light heart that I offer these to you; my personal thoughts and interpretations of my time with Anthony thus far._

_Please keep them close and treasure them for what they are, precious, important memories. Remember him as he was, and as he is, and know that he is loved, so dearly, by us all._

  
_You have my eternal thanks for bringing me this light to my life, for keeping him from killing his foolish self in some way or another, as i'm_ _sure he would have._   


_May your life be filled with such light as mine, and may it never go out._

_-Loki Stark_

Somewhere, while she read along,her hands stopped trembling and a sad smile formed across her lips. 

 

He really was gone, then. 

 

  
_Gone, but not lost_ , she reminded herself, blinking away the threat of tears. Once she read it over one more time, she carefully folded the letter back into the envelope and picked up Tony's.

 

She fidgeted with it for a while, deliberating between saving it until she returned home, or just getting it over with.

_Just open it, it's like ripping a Band Aid off._

 

 With a grimace, she opened it much more carefully than the last one. The paper was just as thick, and covered in ink blotches and smudges that the other had lacked. Clearly Tony had not mastered the quill or ink pen they seemed to be using over on Asgard. She couldn't help but snort at Tony's rare moment of failure, and leaned back in her chair to read.

 

_To Pepper,_

_By now you've probably looked at the date on the first note I left you and realized it's been forever since we've actually had contact. Ten years, right? Fuck, has it really been that long? Have you gone gray?_

_I'm kidding, obviously not, since I'm not there to give you gray hairs anymore._

_Anyway, I hope my notes from my phone are still accessible, it would kind of suck to be missing those. I checked the chip and it wasn't damaged, so that's what's in the envelope that I included with my chicken-scratch letter. If not, well, I asked Loki to send his side of the story, since he's been keeping tabs on things just as long as I have. He's a sweetie, I hope you like him—or, well, I hope you like reading about him. I switched to paper at one point, thanks Fury for not bringing me a new phone, so good luck reading that mess!_

  
_On another note, I would love to bring Loki back to meet my best buddies, but Odin is a bastard and, w_ _ell, let's just say: if we do leave, things could get complicated for their 'peace' efforts. At least they finally let us do our jobs, as begrudgingly as possible,of course. But, yeah, we're happy and we've moved into our own little place outside of the city. It's so fucking domestic you would laugh in disbelief at my life right now. But that's okay, it's good. I'm good._   


_I should probably mention that there's a reason I'm sending these to you now, and not just because Odin and Fury have started to ignore my requests for contact and this might be our last chance, but because it's time. Miss Potts, it was a pleasure and an honor to know you, and I will never, ever be able to repay the debt that I owe for keeping me together and mostly sane all those times. For crying for me when I was kidnapped, for putting up with my antics, signing my paperwork, putting art on my walls, and genuinely giving a damn about me. You deserve happiness, and I don't mean cheesy, generic happy endings, I mean whatever it is that you need in your life, I hope you get it. I got it, and that's why this is my final entry in my sort-of diary._

_If there's anything I've learned out here in space, it's that dragons are real. No, well, yes, but what I really learned is that there are moments that will stay with you forever, but what matters most is right in front of you right now._

_And with that, Miss Potts, I leave you a small portion of my life in your hands. I hope it's a good read._

_Thank you._

_I really mean it._

_Thank you._

_-Tony Stark_

Pepper placed the letter back on her desk, careful to keep it away from the drops that fell from her eyes. Her salad had long been forgotten, shoved to the side and growing soggy. Pulling herself together, she brought out the final envelop, dropping the small cell phone card into her hand. Then, it was a simple matter of sliding it into the slot of her computer and having JARVIS access the information for her. 

 

"I recognize this writing format," the AI said suddenly. 

 

Pepper gave another sad smile and replied, "He really hasn't changed a bit." 

 

"Good things never do."

 

Onscreen, 130 notes popped up, and with the same determination and patience she always had when it came to Tony, she began to read about his life.

 

 

_'I'm not sure how to say this, but I guess it doesn't matter since no one but myself is going to read it anyway._

  
There's something about Loki...' 

 

_____

 

**The end.**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it guys! 
> 
> I hope the end doesn't leave you with too many questions. There's a few implications in there that I hope are clear enough as to where those two dorks are in life.
> 
> I'm sorry there was never a sexy scene, it just didn't feel right with the story, in the end. [ Even though I wrote one, anyway.] 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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